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badkitty3000 · 9 months ago

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Weak

Even Five Hargreeves is no stranger to temptation. He tries so hard to stay away. He wants to do the right thing for once in his life. If not for himself, then for her. But every man has his breaking point.

Five Hargreeves x Reader Smut

This one shot is an accompaniment to my other work "Addicted". This can be read on its own, but is a different side of the story, as told from Five's point of view.

My Master List Of Number Five Fanfiction

Weak:

I never meant to take it this far. I never meant to be cruel. That’s not who I am, or at least I didn’t think I was. I also thought I was strong and had will power. But I guess I was wrong about that, too. Because as much as I try to stay away, I don’t.

I know who I am and what I’m made of. The terrible things I’ve done. That’s not a secret and I’ve never lied to myself about that. My morals can’t even be called a gray area anymore; they’re more like an indistinct blur. But in this one tiny part of my soul, I was trying to be better. For her, at least.

I have failed miserably.

She knows what I am. When things got too comfortable and too familiar, I told her as a way to push her away and to scare her. It didn’t work, though. In fact, it had the opposite effect. She fucking loved it…and I didn’t know how to say no to that.

How could I say no when she was tearing at my clothes, practically panting with desire, and shoving her hand down my pants? All over a bloody stain on a shirt collar and the feel of my Glock against her skin. I’m sure there’s a way to resist that, but fuck if I know what it is. I’m not smart enough or strong enough to figure that one out.

I don’t particularly like all of the killing. But I’m pretty fucking good at it and someone has to do it, I suppose. I certainly never considered it sexy in any way. Then, after that first time, when she begged me to tell her all of the gruesome details, and I watched her skin start to flush and her pupils dilate…well, fuck, that put a new spin on everything.

I still don’t like it, that part hasn’t changed. I get no pleasure from pulling that trigger and watching their skull break open like a fucking pinata, spraying the contents of their brains all over the floor like the world’s worst party game. Now, however, there is a sick little spark that will ignite in me after it’s done. Because I know how it will turn her on.

And, fuck, I am weak.

That’s what this all boils down to. Weakness. For most people that meet me or know me in any way, weak is probably the last word they would use to describe me. Cold; bitter; sarcastic; asshole. Those adjectives are much more likely to be used. But weak? Doubtful.

I know the truth, though. Deep down, that is what I am. Because when you continue to break someone’s heart time and time again, just because you can’t control your own basic urges…that’s weakness. Pure and simple.

She has told me how much I’ve hurt her, and how much I am ruining her life. She has screamed and cried and told me all of the things I know I deserve to hear. She has called me an asshole more times than I can remember, and I have never disputed it. So, I stay away, like I know I should. Until she inevitably calls again. And I slip right back into it without another thought. Like the absolute fucking bastard that I am.

Weak.

Because even though I know it’s wrong and I’m slowly poisoning her with my selfishness, each time I think maybe it will be different. Maybe this time will be the time when I stay. When I will finally be the person I should be and really want to be.

All the way up until the early morning, I will convince myself that this is it. I’ve finally seen the light and I can be the man she deserves; it will be so easy. Because when it’s just the two of us, in our own little cocoon, hidden away from the outside world, the idea is magical. I would give anything to stay there, tucked away, fucking like animals until we’re both too exhausted to talk anymore. I want to stay there and listen to her voice, and her laugh, and feel her hands on my touch-starved body. And I think, yes, this is it. This is what I want.

Then morning comes and the spell is broken.

Once that first peek of dawn starts to light up the sky, all of my anxieties come rushing back, and I remember why I can’t stay. Morning brings back the real world, and with it all of its problems.

I will freeze up, practically paralyzed with fear, as she sleeps next to me, an arm draped over my chest. I will remember what kind of person I really am, and how that just doesn’t translate to boyfriend material. And it’s not just the little fact that I am a hired assassin, although that does put a slight snag in any future meetings with parents and the like.

It’s the mixing bowl of fucked up thoughts and feelings and history that lives inside my brain. Guilt. Regret. Sadness. Rage. Take your pick, none of them are great. And I can mask them for a night or two, while I’m pretending to be someone I’m not. But they will come back again, and that’s just not something anyone needs. Especially someone you care about.

So, I do the worst, shittiest thing in the world, and leave while she’s asleep. No kiss goodbye. No note. Not even a quick morning fuck. I grab my shit and leave in a flash of blue light, like the weak coward I am. Can’t even bother to use the god damn door.

I will stay away after that. At least for a while. I will ignore the incoming texts and voice mails that sometimes will follow, and sometimes don’t. I’ll pretend I don’t care about the lectures and pleas and rightly-deserved insults. But I do care. And that’s why I won’t answer.

A month might go past, maybe more. Just enough time for me to start thinking she really is done with me. Then the call will come through, late at night, and I won’t ignore it. Because, as we’ve determined…I am weak.

She is the only one, although I’ve never told her that and I bet she thinks she’s not. I’m not interested in anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. And when she stops calling for good, which one day I know will happen, that will be it. It’s either her or nobody. And it’s barely even her.

Our paths almost never cross outside of our little midnight meetings. After that first night when all of this started, I’ve never seen her anywhere else besides her apartment. I assume it’s because the types of bars and clubs I frequent are not anywhere a normal, sane person would want to spend their free evenings. But tonight, as fate would have it, I do see her. After I grab my drink off the cracked and peeling bar top and turn to look at the room behind me, I see her. And she’s not alone.

With my glass half way to my mouth, our eyes meet, and for a second neither of us move. It’s not a big place, so we aren’t that far away from one another. But it’s loud and crowded, and the guy is leaning in close to her ear, talking loudly to be heard over the constant bass thumping through the shitty speakers on the walls. Who the fuck is this guy?

It’s not fair, I know that. Believe me, I know that. And I try to give myself a stern talking-to inside my head. She is not yours. Not even remotely. You are an asshole and she deserves better. Leave her the fuck alone.

I take a drink. And then I see his hand disappear under the table, and I can see everything from where I’m standing. He’s squeezing her thigh, leaving his hand there to rest on her leg, rubbing his thumb across the bare skin that isn’t covered by her short skirt. A skirt I know I’ve had my face under before.

Fuck. I hate this guy.

In the thirty seconds that it takes for all of this to happen, she is watching me. Reading me. A faint smile plays on her lips and I know I’m caught. My thoughts must be written all over my face like a fucking billboard, and it’s too late to pretend I haven’t seen or that I don’t care. She’s got me.

If I were stronger, or a better person, I would leave. Pay my tab, collect my coat, and get the fuck out of there without another glance in her direction. Leave her be. Let her live her fucking life. But I am not. And I’m pissed.

My first instinct is to reach behind me, grab the Glock that’s hidden in the waistband of my pants and covered up by my suit jacket, and take care of this asshole right then and there. That would probably be the nicer thing to do, honestly. Then she’d finally see what a fucking psycho I am and that would end things once and for all. But I’m also not that stupid. Or that nice.

Instead, I stay and watch. I let her see me watching, too. I lean with my back against the bar, casually sipping my drink, and my eyes never leave her. I want her to know, even if it makes me more of a giant dick than I already am. I want her to know I am not pleased.

I have no idea who this guy is, and I don’t care. Maybe it’s their first date; maybe it’s their tenth. It doesn’t matter, I want him dead. And now that she knows that, because it’s pretty fucking obvious by the way I’m coiled like a cobra ready to strike right now, it’s quickly become a game. If she had feelings for him before, that seems to have been forgotten now. Because everything she is doing is for me.

Her eyes leave mine and she returns to what I can only imagine is a very dull conversation with the Neanderthal sitting next to her. She smiles and laughs, and moves her leg closer to his so that they are touching. She reaches up and fixes his hair, tucking a stray piece of it over his ear. She rests her chin on her hand and stares at him like he’s the most interesting person she’s ever encountered. And he’s eating this shit up; kicking his game up a notch with even more inane talk and rubbing her thigh up and down with his whole hand. He thinks she’s into him. Fucking dumbass.

That’s the only thing keeping me slightly calm at the moment. Knowing it’s all a play. She is a really good actress, I’ll give her that, but I’ve paid more attention to her than she realizes. I know her tells. I know the difference between her fake laugh and her real one. I can tell when she’s actively engaged in the conversation or she is just waiting for you to shut up. I know how she touches her face when she’s nervous and I know what she looks like when she wants to fuck you.

And, buddy…I got bad news for you.

The corner of my mouth lifts in an arrogant smirk as I take another drink. I shouldn’t be proud of this; I should be appalled. How dare I think I have any right to any of her little traits and quirks? I haven’t earned that. That kind of thing is reserved for boyfriends and husbands and people that can stand to stick around for more than a few hours.

When she runs her tongue over her lips in an obvious gesture meant only for me, I actually laugh out loud. Fuck, she knows what she’s doing. And it’s one hundred percent working.

As I order my second drink, feeling the calming buzz of the booze fill my brain, I start to care less and less. I don’t care if this is not fair. I don’t care that I’m being a complete and utter shit head. I don’t care if I’m weak. I’ll deal with all of that later.

I take out my phone and type out a quick text.

Enjoying yourself?

I watch as she glances to her phone on the table as it lights up. She picks it up, angling it away from Caveman Cliff, and reads it. It’s subtle, but I saw it. A brief twitch of her mouth and a quick flit of her eyes in my direction. I see her type out a quick reply and then she is back to him, completely enrapt in his droning.

Immensely, thank you

Not able to resist, I counter with:

Even I can tell from way over here that your panties are as dry as the desert

She holds in a smile as she responds back.

Too bad you’re not going to find out

Honey, if that pussy of yours is even slightly wet, it’s only because you’re thinking of me bending you over that table you’re sitting at right now

I see her legs shift and she crosses one over the other, squeezing them together as a faint blush covers her cheeks.

And why would I be thinking that?

Because that dipshit you’re with isn’t going to give you what I know you want

I watch as she swallows and then glances at the idiot to her left that is oblivious to all of this, the poor bastard. Her response is short.

Fuck you

She puts her phone away to end this exchange, but I see the small smile she is trying to hide and the way she touches her hand to her face. I can see her chest expand as she sucks in a deep breath, biting at the inside of her cheek.

I give a short snort of satisfaction and put my phone back in my inside jacket pocket. I got what I wanted. I throw back the rest of my drink, leave a few dollars for a tip, and head for the door without another look in her direction. But I know she saw me leave.

As I wait there in the dark, I think about how awful I’m being; what a shit bag move this is. I’m using her, that’s what it boils down to. Using her for her warmth and her openness, and to temporarily calm my mind. Also, for her body and her touch. She sees something in me that isn’t there; or at least something I can’t see. But I can’t or won’t give her what she needs, and I’m also not letting her move on.

Fuck, I’m an asshole.

I hear their voices coming down the hall, the rattle of keys in her hand. As they near the door, I can hear her made up excuses. She’s tired; she had too much to drink; she has a headache. Maybe next time. She’ll call him tomorrow. Then she slips inside her darkened apartment and the door closes behind her.

I’m on her before she has a chance to turn the light on, pressing her against the door as she drops her keys on the floor. Since I’ve been waiting, the anticipation has already made me fully hard and I push my groin into her while I circle my hand lightly around her neck.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? No love connection tonight?” I growl next to her ear.

She never even screams or fights back. She knew I would be there. But her hands grab my forearm and I hear her suck in a loud breath.

“I never knew you were the jealous type,” she smarts back.

“Only when I see someone try to take what’s mine,” I hiss hotly against her neck, drawing my lips and then my tongue across her skin.

“I’m not your fucking property,” she snarls, but I can hear the break in her voice and she swallows hard against my hand.

I laugh cynically. “Well, then I can go and you can let him fuck you instead. Is that what you want?”

There’s a long pause and it’s just our loud breathing in the dark of the room. Then I feel her head move slowly from side to side.

“No,” she whispers.

As I crash my mouth onto hers, my hands in her hair and on her face, and down to her tits, she is reaching for the front of my pants. I had already removed my jacket and belt when I got there, as well as the pistol that I always carry with me. Our little act back at the bar was already enough foreplay and our bodies are screaming for each other.

Our hands can’t work fast enough as she is shoving my pants down my legs and tearing my shirt open while I rip her top off and yank her skirt up. My fingers are already pushing her panties to the side and entering her, sliding right in with no resistance.

I smile proudly against her neck. “I knew you were wet for me.”

As she moans and throws her head back, she is reaching down to stroke my cock, her warm hand tight and firm as she drags it slowly over my shaft.

My hips are already jerking into her and I want to be inside of her so badly I can’t think straight.

“Get these panties off so I can fuck you,” I snarl.

I pull my fingers out, pushing her underwear down roughly and she quickly steps out of them. With one pull of her hips into me, her arms clutching tightly to my shoulders, I lift her up and start fucking her against the door.

I tip my head back and groan loudly as she whines and pulls her legs tighter around my waist.

“Can he make you feel this good?” I ask between clenched teeth as I ram into her harder and the door rattles in its frame.

“No!” she cries out.

“Do you think about him when you’re alone and fingering yourself?”

Her moans are punctuated by the slamming of my body against hers and her fingers press deeper into my skin.

“No,” she breathes out. “No.”

“You think about me, don’t you?” I say with a sneer. When she doesn’t answer fast enough, I ask again, louder. “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whimpers pitifully, her nails digging sharply into my shoulder blades.

I can’t believe what I’m saying and what I’m doing. But she’s loving it and so I continue.

“I’m going to fuck you until you forget all about him, and then I’m going to fuck you some more. And if I ever see you with him again, I will kill him.”

“You wanted to kill him, didn’t you?” she asks, and that knowing smile starts to form as she closes her eyes and bites her lip. “When you saw him with me?”

“Fuck yes I did,” I groan loudly into her neck.

She’s almost there, I can tell. So am I, but I’m going to make her finish first. I pick up the pace, thrusting into her as hard as I can, her back and head slamming against the door, my fingers digging deeper into the flesh of her thighs and ass. I’m practically ripping into the side of her neck, latching on with my mouth and teeth, desperate to mark her as my own.

I listen as she repeats my name over and over in gasps and moans and I can’t hold back anymore.

“That’s it, sweetheart. You are all mine.”

She is falling apart in my arms, violently shaking against me as I penetrate her one last time, letting out a loud, guttural moan. I’m as deep inside of her as I can be, and I fill her up with so much cum, I know it will start sliding out; dripping down her legs and onto the floor. Somewhere deep inside, in the primordial part of my brain, I take satisfaction in knowing that it’s my seed, and only mine, that is coating her insides.

Once the last spasm has left my body, I let her down and she falls back against the door, breathing hard. Her bra is still on, but the straps have fallen down, and her skirt is bunched up around her waist. I look at the painful looking purple bruise I left on her neck, which is large enough and obvious enough that she won’t be able to cover it. Her eye makeup is smeared and her lips are swollen and red. She looks completely ravished. And then she starts to cry.

It’s because of me, I know it is. Because of the things I said and the things I did, and the way I needed her so desperately. She had been trying to break away from me and I reeled her back in. And I did it knowingly and deliberately, just to feed my ego and maybe not feel so alone. I could have found anyone for that. But, like the prick I am, I only wanted her.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, my lungs still working hard to get air in and out.

She just nods silently, wiping her face with her hand, and pulls down her skirt. She picks her shirt and underwear off the floor and heads to the bathroom without a word. I’m left standing there with a softening dick and my pants around my ankles.

Fuck.

I could leave now, while she’s in there, and maybe I should. That feels wrong, though. But then again, so does staying. I feel like shit and I’m so full of shame that I want to punch my fist through the wall. Instead, I zip my pants back up and walk over to her couch to wait. I turn on the table lamp and even though it’s dim, it feels blaringly bright and I have to squint my eyes.

When she comes out, she has changed into some soft shorts and a t-shirt. Her face is cleaned up and I assume her thighs and the area between them are too. She is no longer crying, but I can still see the tell-tale signs of red-rimmed eyes and flushed cheeks. I’m surprised when she comes and sits down next to me, laying her head on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I say again, because I can’t think of anything better to say.

“I know. Me too,” she says and she leans her body against mine.

She has nothing to be sorry for and I’m not sure what to do, so I put my arm around her and hug her to me. I kiss her forehead and she closes her eyes. I don’t know why she’s letting me do this, but it feels good and I like it. Just like every other time, I tell myself that maybe this time will be different. I can do this; I can be that person. I don’t want to be that other jealous, callous, hurtful person. I don’t want to be the asshole.

“Just don’t go yet, ok?” she says quietly with her cheek resting against my chest.

I smooth her hair and run my hand down her back. I don’t want to go. She feels good and warm and soft against my tension-filled body. She feels right. I want to tell her all of that, too. I want to say I’m sorry a million times over and beg for her forgiveness. I want to wake up with her next to me every day.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” I murmur into her hair as I brush my chin across the top of her head.

“Don’t do that,” she pleads, her voice soft. “Please.”

I decide I’m going to tell her how I really feel. Before the night is over, I’ll come clean. And then I’ll stay. If she’ll still have me.

“You are, though. I mean it.”

She doesn’t respond, but sighs and nestles in, holding me around my waist. Fuck, I have craved this. More than the dirty talk and the biting and the ferocious fucking. I want this. I want her. And I’m going to tell her.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur. It’s there, on the tip of my tongue the whole time. All I have to do is say it. But I don’t.

We fuck again, rough and hard, on the couch and on the floor. I leave more marks on her chest, branding her as my own. I tell her she’s mine, and I make her scream my name again, but I don’t say what I really mean.

We fuck in her bed, while we’re both tired and slightly drunk. I pump lazily into her while she lies underneath me and moans softly. I kiss her lips and tell her how gorgeous she is, and it’s not a lie because she is. I worship her body, running my tongue over every part of it, tasting her skin and her delicious arousal. I can taste my own cum as I lick into her soft folds and inside her pussy that’s been stretched and abused by my cock several times over.

There are so many opportunities and I don’t take any of them. I let her fold her body into mine as I hold her in the dark and I can say it right now. It would be easy and it would be the truth.

I want to be with you.

I want to be yours.

I want you to be mine and mine alone.

I want to stay.

But I am weak, and so I don’t.

She sleeps against me and I listen to her rhythmic breathing while I lie there wide awake. I think about all of the things I should have said. Everything I should have done and should not have done. I hate myself for all of it.

When the sun creeps in, and the faintest light is leaking through the curtains and cutting through the safety of the darkness, it all comes crashing back. I remember why I can’t stay and why those words just wouldn’t come out. The reality of the real world is glaringly obvious in the light of day and I remember all of it.

The real world is filled with everyday things like jobs and homes and bills to pay. Coworkers and families that want to meet you. Graduation and birthday parties. Movie and dinner dates, holidays and vacations. Marriage. Children. Normalcy.

There’s just no way any of that would work. I can’t fit into that life, even though I want to. I think of all of the things holding me back and they keep piling up until they are crushing me and I feel like I can’t breathe.

I am an assassin. A killer. A murderer. I have seen the end of the world and survived the most horrific things. I have PTSD and crippling anxiety. There are nightmares and paranoia and episodes of manic rage. I am old and I am tired. There is nothing left of me and nothing left to give. I am not meant for normalcy.

As I slowly remove her arm from across my chest, she stirs but she doesn’t wake. I take a moment to look at her. Her mind isn’t betraying her with vivid dreams of the world collapsing around her in a fiery blaze or sprays of bullets piercing her body. She is at peace and I am envious of that.

I am not good for her, I know that. I need to go and stay gone. She deserves stability and happiness and a million other things I cannot give her. So, I will be the asshole that leaves in the morning before she wakes, just like I always do. She will hate me and curse me and cry for me. And I will stay away this time. I have to.

I chance it by leaning in and brushing my lips across her forehead. Her face wrinkles up and then relaxes again, but she doesn’t wake. I slip out of the bed and out of the room, following the trail of discarded clothes and put them back on one by one. Then I am gone in the same flash of light that allowed me to enter there in the first place. A convenient exit that I have misused way too many times.

Outside, the sun is bright and the world is waking up. I can feel my resolve growing stronger as the new day builds. That was it, I am done. It was awful and I shouldn’t have done it, but it’s over now and I will not be repeating it. I am a pillar of inner strength. That was the last time and she is finally free of me. I am doing the right thing.

My strength is impressive, both inside and out. But it is not impenetrable, especially when darkness falls and the world around me grows quiet. When I am alone with nothing but my thoughts, and I just need to feel something good again.

Everyone has a weakness.

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meanbossart · 2 months ago

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Do you think Astarion eats, like, at all? Or is it just blood, and any food he eats he does for show and just kind of. Vomits up later? I mean alcohol works on him, and he gets boners, so there's SOME bio-processes happening in there.

The point is, that assuming he does in fact eat, I imagine DUDrow and Astarion going to town on a BBQ whole pig or cow, or some other blue rare piece of meat, and you walk in on them and you genuinely think for a second they're eating a person. But it's just a rather rare side of beef.

(Must be at least brought to a safe temperature, DUDrow can still get trichinosis)

As entertaining as the scenario is, I genuinely don't think Astarion eats!

At least within mine/ANE's lore he has no use for food. He can consume it and keep it down for a while, but it doesn't taste particularly great and he does need to regurgitate it sooner or later. Alcohol has no effect on him either, unless consumed second-hand by drinking from someone who's had it (not scientifically sound, I just think that's funny).

Obviously, it's a losing battle to try and apply biology to a DnD/mythological creature, so I'm all for people making up their own rules in that regard to make as interesting a character/life-state as they can.

Here's some aspects of vampirism as it applies to the canon I made up, and Astarion by extension:

Generally, a vampire's body is in stasis. It's in a stand-still that emulates the exact biology it had when it died.

if enacted within the appropriate amount of time, drinking blood and sleeping in caskets will regenerate most injuries, even ones that would be fatal to humans. The exceptions being: traumatic punctures to the heart, a beheading, or extended exposure to sun-light.

They are entirely immune to things like internal bleeding, infection, or organ failure. They are not immune to blood loss.

Hunger, proximity to running bodies of water, holy places, or entering homes without invitation will drain a vampire's vigor, perhaps even to the point of complete lethargy, but it won't kill them.

-And by "draining their vigor" I mean that they slowly begin to resemble rotting cadavers more and more in smell, appearance, and function.

Unless very freshly fed, a vampire will always emanate some kind of deathly, earthy scent. Said smell is specially apparent in their bodily secretions regardless of satiety.

They are very susceptible to bed-sores.

They have no means of biological reproduction. Their nut's dead.

If it's of any consolation to you, though, I've always had it in my mind that Astarion enjoys watching DU drow eat. So, we can still have the weird "walking into euphemistic cannibalism" scenario but now it's even stranger because one dude is just getting off to it in a corner instead of participating!

#ask #du drow and astarion #astarion

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kquil · 10 months ago

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REMUS LUPIN | 13:53 — ONE NEGRONI

SUM : to help pay the bills and your tuition fee, you get a new job at an elite club where the tips are incredibly generous. you’ve met a majority of the clientele already but they don’t match the stranger who ordered a simple negroni

TAGS. : mafia au ; modern au ; muggle au ; mobster remus ; mafia boss remus ; bartender reader ; reader is a hard working sweetheart that must be protected! ; catching remus’ eye ; remus lowkey wishes he can be the one to do the protecting ; and maybe more ; for now, he’s a low key stalker ; but sexy… ; stalking is bad, don’t do it! ; this is just fiction! ; but hey! remus owns an elite club! wooooo! ; i don’t know how to feel about my interpretation of the marauders as mafia men/mobsters ; it’s growing on me… ; also, im casting peter pettigrew as Dane DeHan in this!

LENGTH : 1.5k

It wasn’t as if you were new to the job; you had previously worked some years as a bar tender for a pretty well-established club, it paid well and managed to help pay for your rent and utility bills for most of your higher education years. However, all the built up stress and sleepless nights finally caught up to you. And you found yourself repeating a year, meaning that you needed to pay for your own tuition this year atop all the other monthly bills and necessities you keep up with. Perhaps it was the universe telling you that you needed to stop and change the direction of your life — you needed to choose an easier path, a doable path. But you were stubborn and also quite the optimist. So you kept at it, determined to finish what you started and earn your degree.

Yes, it was a let down but you were still breathing. Life just gets hard sometimes.

Thankfully, your past experience and phenomenal recommendation letter from your previous manager earned you another bar tending job at a very elite club, where tips were more than generous, considering the clientele composed primarily of the privileged class, some with multiple businesses under their belts, some who were phenomenal investors and some living off their parents’ money. You didn’t care to look too much into it, you were there to work and you were going to work hard and honestly.

The patrons surprisingly had very similar tastes and so, you fond yourself making the same types of drinks repeatedly. It made the job a lot easier and you were able to focus more on your delivery and interaction with customers, leading to more tips. Times were rough after having to accept defeat with your studies and repeating a year with your own funding but things were looking up. If you keep at it, you’ll make it out alive.

Your only complaint was the dress code. Make up was advised with a bold red lip but must be kept simple. You felt like a showgirl of some kind, squeezed into a high collar, white dress that came down to your mid thigh and with a low-cut, open back. The sleeves aren’t as long as you would like but, at least, you were permitted to use black kitten heel court shoe pumps as opposed to stilettos — your only saving grace, along with the higher salary and generous tips.

“Looks like we have a newbie working the bar,” Sirius points out, drawing all attention to your lively figure as you served drinks with a sweet smile and airy voice. A hum of curiosity vibrates through Remus’ chest and up to his lips at the sight of you, “certainly easy on the eyes, huh?” the tattooed, right-hand comments again as he looks towards the head of the table where Remus holds up his glass of Negroni.

“Very… innocent— a sweet, pretty, little thing,” James comments on Remus’ other side, which Peter grunts at in agreement as he takes a sip of his whiskey-sour.

“Looks like she doesn’t belong,” Peter nods before smirking and letting out a light laugh. The domino effect had James and Sirius laughing too as Remus smirks behind his glass before proceeding to down the rest of his drink.

“Exactly your type, eh? Moony?”

Sirius’ teasing comment is ignored. Instead, Remus calls for there server and orders another drink with an additional request that only confirms his smirking friend’s disregarded statement, “Have the new bartender personally deliver my drink for me as well,”

There was no higher authority that could dismiss the club owner’s personal request.

It was a strange request but you steeled your nerves and asked your fellow bartender to minister your unattended station while you made quick work on the order. It wasn’t unusual to receive requests like this from an isolated table that had privacy curtains for convenience. However, it was usually for drinks that you could make a show out of like a Holy Water cocktail, a Phoenix cocktail and even a Dragon’s Blood cocktail — a performance that you liked partaking in for the flammable aspect. But this was a Negroni. A cocktail of equal parts gin, saccharine vermouth and bitter Italian Campari. It’s a very egalitarian drink that was enjoyed by everyone, men and women alike, simple but elegant and definitely didn’t require a performance. Despite the odd summons, you were eager to fulfil your curiosity for who the client may be.

With a professional smile, you place refined mix in the middle of your circular tray with it’s classic orange garnish and set off to the table. The standby server, who made the order, saw your approach and quickly announced your arrival through the small front opening, momentarily disappearing into the shadow of the curtains. He reappears a moment later and pulls the heavy drapes fully apart, to reveal the guests from beneath the, once, opaque shadows.

To say that you were stunned was an understatement.

It was pure luck that you didn’t stutter in your stride and spill the cocktail prematurely. At the table was seated four men, all dressed in suits and ties that were in various states of disorder. Among their collection of suits, you could spot Armani and Tom Ford, however, you were sure that their unconventional styles were not the way those suits were intended to be worn.

One man with long, midnight-black hair and paper-pale skin had an array of mismatching tattoos littering both arms, revealed to you by his lack of a suit jacket and rolled-up sleeves. Another wore cute circular glasses and a cheeky grin with a suit jacket but no button up shirt and his chiseled upper body on full display. The last was a dirty blonde with piercing eyes and a deceivingly boyish smile. He had his ankle propped up on his opposite knee and several buttons undone where a tie should have been fastened over, his sleeves also rolled up as his suit jacket lay beside him.

It was the man at the head of the table, however, who stole your attention. If you had to guess who ordered such a simple but elegant drink, it would have to be him. He had his suit jacket draped over his broad shoulders and also had several of his top buttons undone, revealing some faded scars marked across his toned chest. His neat brunette hair and kind brown eyes gave him a deceivingly gentle appearance but his close company revealed a duplicity that caught and tensed your nerves.

You ignored the creeping goosebumps that prickled your skin, down from your toes all the way up to your ears.

Just do your job…

“Gentlemen,” you addressed kindly with a slight tilt of your head, which they acknowledged with their own hums of acknowledgement, their eyes lighting up in subtle surprise at your actions, “I have an order for a Negroni,” you raise your tray with the drink and scan the four for some indication as to who the order belonged to.

“That would be for me,” just as you suspected, it was the brunette with the kindest eyes but also the most ominous air. His voice is a deep and smooth lullaby, patient with it’s seduction on your senses. It was a trap that you resisted but are so hopelessly tempted to fall into, “Thank you, sweetheart,” he meets your eyes as you lower the drink into his large, outstretched hand. You notice how his knuckles and fingers are littered with scars also, some fresh, some faded with time and some hidden behind luxurious rings. Nevertheless…

He’s beautiful

She’s precious

“Not a problem,” you reassure with a soft voice, “have a good evening,” with your circular tray pressed against your side, you offer him an innocent smile and dismiss the butterflies in your stomach urging you to linger, “gentlemen,” you acknowledge the remaining three once more before offering another sweet smile. Turning on your heel, you leave the group and ignore the stares drilling holes into the back of your head.

She doesn’t know…

Once you were out of earshot, Remus turns to his closest friends and most trusted colleagues. They all share a look, one that conveys a unanimous thought. It isn’t long before their agreement manifests into knowing smiles and a ring of laughter shared between them.

“Don’t get greedy now, Moony,” Peter chimes in as Sirius throws his head back with a barking laugh.

“That’s not gonna stop him Wormtail, you know that; she’s a rare one,”

“So what’s the plan, bossman?” James asks with a raised brow as he brings his drink up to his lips.

Remus doesn’t answer right away, he simply requests that the curtain remain open so he can fix his fond gaze on you for the remainder of the evening. The group already knew what to do and sat at the edge of their seats, awaiting orders eagerly despite their slack shoulders and composed expressions. Only they were able to observe the shift in the air between them; it became charged as soon as you entered their circle and slowly started accelerating, parallel to the climbing affection in Remus’ eyes as he watches you smile at customers while making their drinks.

He takes a singular sip of his Negroni, bitterly sweet with a citrus edge.

Heaven in a glass. And made by an angel.

“I want a background check and profile put together immediately,” Remus finally orders, “I want to know everything there is to know about her,”

A/N : i downloaded some fics and read some over the holidays and there some mafia/mobster aus and i couldn’t help but picture remus as a mob boss, i’m sure im not the only one to ever imagine this but goddamn! why is it so easy to imagine sweet, gentle, responsible remus like that?!

NAVI.

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88 @rosalyn-s

#remus lupin #☽ : timestamp #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fic #remus x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders #marauders #remus lupin mafia boss au #mafia au #mobster au

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colourstreakgryffin · 10 months ago

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Hello! Could you do a SFW one with Alastor, Vox, Velvett, or others (separately) with a blind fem reader?

Ooh! Okay! I def can! Idk if you want it romantic or not but even so, let’s just see where this actually really cool idea takes us, shall we!

Alastor

Alastor doesn’t really react much to when he discovers you’re blind. Well… that happens to people doesn’t it, though, he isn’t sure how you’re still blind, even coming into Hell. He was short-sighted as a human and now, it’s completely cured. Why are you so different?

Alastor won’t treat you like you’re helpless and unable to fend for yourself. He’ll only jump in when he thinks you genuinely need some support. He is a good boyfriend like that and he is happy to make radio effect noises to draw you back to him when you need the subtle push

Alastor is the type to accompany you everywhere, no questions asked. He’ll bring you place to place and let you feel around so you get familiar with the Hotel’s layout but most of the time, he’ll escort you where you need to go so you don’t get lost. He just wants to protect you… all the time, everytime

Alastor respects you. You have a genuine disability but yet, you never let it bother you nor does it hinder you so much, that you need a constant caretaker. You’re a lady of skill and diligence, you’ve accomplished so much. He’s proud and he likes to brag about his blind girlfriend being better than anybody else’s own normal girlfriend, even over his broadcasts

You bet your supple ass Alastor wants and tries to cure your disability. As much as he believes you’re beautiful the way you are, he’d prefer you be able to see so you don’t have to suffer all the time and he brings this up with you as much as he possibly can

Vox

Vox is kinda meh about the whole fact you’re blind. He doesn’t like it but that also doesn’t mean he’d bully you for it. He’s kinda more disguising ‘I am worried’ under annoyance. He pretends to be annoyed by the fact you can’t see but in his mind, he’s worried you’ll get lost

Vox always has people escort you around, when he himself cannot, he needs you safe and he even hires security to ensure no random stranger can put their hands on you when you least suspect it. As his beloved but sadly disabled girlfriend, you’re safety is his top priority, alongside comfort when you are safe

Vox is kinda— no, very babying. To be honest, he babies you a lot because of your blindness. He is caring and he is doting, behind closed doors and he wants to ensure you’ll be taken care of so he babies you in all ways because of your disability. He’ll feed you, he’ll bring you to the bathroom, he’ll sleep with you

Vox always wants to hold your hand. It’s for both of you; for you to get familiar with his feeling and for him to know you’re right there and not going anywhere. Vox also doesn’t mind letting you feel his TV head, whatever helps you always recognise him, he’s happy with it

Vox, like Alastor and Velvette, brags about you but he brags about you on his television show, so live on the worldwide web. He’ll brag about everything you’re gone through and even announce you, proclaim you’re the better than any girl in Hell and that you’re hotter than any other girl in Hell

Velvette

Velvette, for a critical and judgy woman, cannot bring herself to judge you for your disability. Yeah, she is the one who dislikes it the most since it means you’re stupid(Velvette mindset) but she doesn’t want to throw any garbage at the woman she really likes

Velvette likes to dress you. That way, you don’t have to worry about feeling on your clothing and she can make sure you always match her, stay up trends and be stylish. You’ll be the most beautiful lady in the Pride Ring and she’ll enjoy posting pictures of you online

Velvette actually feels really sorry for you so she offers her help regularly. She’ll offer her help for the smallest things, your echolocation isn’t working and you’re more than a bit stuck, she’ll be right there with her phone playing so you can always find her incase you two seperate but she’ll have your hand in hers

Velvette as the, backbone of the Overlord Vs, is more than willingly to get into a fight to protect you. Protect you from the minor disablist down the street to actual exterminators. She’ll never let anything put their hands on you and she’ll even fend off Vox and Valentino to leave you alone. She wants to be the only one touching you

Velvette will make sure you associate social media to herself so when you hear memes or music or a uploaded video, that means Velvette is nearby and she is very proud when she watches you approach her and cuddle her

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supernovafics · 1 year ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k words

summary: in which a moment at a party that led to a drunken kiss and a heartfelt admission pushes you and your best friend away from each other. after nearly a week of silence, it’s still hard to find the right words to say to steve and to find the right way to mend what feels as if it has been permanently broken. until you’re drunk at a bar and he is the one to come and get you.

warnings: bestfriend!steve, explicit language, underage alcohol consumption, angst with a happy ending<33

author’s note: this was sitting in the drafts for a veryvery long time and i’ve finally decided to let it see the light of day🫶🏾 (full “folklore” album series masterlist here)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i didn't know if you'd care if i came back, i have a lot of regrets about that.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The bar was comforting in a weird kind of way.

It was pretty dark and empty for the most part, which partly made sense since it was ten o’clock on a random Wednesday night. You didn’t mind the music softly playing and the stool you were sitting on actually felt comfortable, or maybe it was the alcohol making you believe that.

Somehow even with the number of drinks you’d had in the past hour, it still didn’t manage to effectively push your thoughts far away from Steve and what happened at Robin’s birthday party.

You couldn’t not think about the kiss with him, which you had abruptly and drunkenly initiated; it was a kiss that felt simultaneously wrong and right. And his words that followed the kiss played on what felt like an endless loop in your mind too.

“I’ve wanted this, I’ve wanted us, for practically forever. Ever since that moment our mom’s forced us to meet at that county fair thing when we were ten, I think I knew it was you.”

It was hard to think about what you did in response to that, but still the quick, “I’m sorry, I can’t,” you managed to stutter out before basically running away from him played on equal loop in your head.

The two of you hadn’t spoken since that Saturday night, with you returning back to your college that was two hours away from Hawkins early the next morning. And you were unsure if it was you leading this dance or if both of you were equally avoiding each other because the phone calls that would happen practically daily were reduced to nothing. It had barely been a week, but it was long enough for everything in your life to feel shifted; to feel a little emptier.

“You look like you need to talk to someone,” The bartender, a woman who you were certain couldn’t be older than thirty, said as she slid you the latest drink you’d ordered.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just…” You trailed off with a small sigh before taking a sip from the cold glass. “I did something stupid this past weekend and I regret it, but I also think it might have been the right thing to do.” You were unsure if you were referring to the kissing Steve part or the running away from him part. “I don’t know, I just wish that entire night hadn’t happened, actually.”

You knew that it wasn’t solely your inebriation that made your words seem as if they didn’t make any sense, because everything going through your head was so damn confusing even when you were completely sober. None of it, the emotions you were feeling or the situation itself, fully made sense to you and you forced yourself to not think about any of it by solely consuming yourself with your schoolwork for the last few days. And when doing that was no longer enough to silence your thoughts, you decided to come to this bar.

It was dumb and probably only making things worse, you knew that, but it also felt so much easier.

“Okay,” The woman said. “Can I have a lot more context?”

You were unsure why you had the immediate urge to tell her everything. Maybe it was the alcohol, or perhaps because it was just always so easy for anyone to pour their heart out to a stranger.

“My friend— my best friend, we’ve known each other since we were ten— me and him were at a party. It was actually our other friend’s birthday and she just turned eighteen, so of course, we had to make it a huge thing for her, and we did it at Steve’s house; my best friend, that’s his name. Anyway, it’s about two hours into the party and we’re all pretty drunk. Me and Steve are in his backyard sitting on one of his old patio chairs, and then I don’t know why, I blame it on my drunkenness and how close we were in that moment, but I kissed him. I pulled away almost immediately, but then he said that he has wanted this, wanted us, to happen for so long, and I didn’t know what to say to any of that. So, I just mumbled out a stupid “I’m sorry,” and then left.”

You had barely taken a breath as you spoke, spitting out what happened that night in one rushed go. Finally saying all of it out loud— recounting the story in pretty much its entirety— made you feel a little better. Everything was still a complete mess, but you felt like you could breathe the tiniest bit easier.

“Why did you leave?”

A part of you expected her to ask that question, and at this point, you should’ve had an answer to it that felt certain, but you didn’t.

“It just… It felt like the right thing to do, I think.”

The thought of anything more happening with Steve hadn’t ever crossed your mind, at least not consciously, and even now you still refused to think more about it. Because it wasn't just about Steve. You didn’t want anything more with anyone; you didn’t want feelings, a relationship, any of it.

It wasn’t that you hated love or the thought of it, it was more so that you had been burned because of it so many times that you refused to fall into it so easily again. Falling for boys that you thought actually liked you only to be proven wrong and left heartbroken.

“I get it,” The bartender ultimately said, her voice soft. “You guys have been friends for practically forever and if you started dating and then broke up it would probably change everything between you two.”

We would never break up.

The thought hit you so abruptly that it actually managed to surprise you.

The woman looked at you, confused. “Okay… So, then what’s the problem?”

“What?”

“You said that you and him would never break up, so what’s the problem?”

You hadn’t realized you said the thought out loud, and you couldn’t even feel embarrassed about accidentally saying it because all you could think about was how completely true it was. You and Steve would work so well together, you pretty much already did. You knew the ins and outs of each other; everything little that was annoying but also so endearing. It was what you loved about him— as a friend and as more.

But still, it was so fucking hard to admit that out loud, and you wanted to forget about the entire realization.

“I– I don’t know,” You finally answered before folding your arms against the countertop and then putting your head down. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that that action would be enough to will away the tears that you could now feel threatening to spill out.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“and i ended up here. pouring out my heart to a stranger.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Hey, you okay?”

The voice was soft and immediately comforting and oh so familiar. It was enough to put a smile on your face, but your head was starting to pound so you couldn’t bear to do anything but groan.

You lifted your head and mumbled out a soft, “Steve?”

You only vaguely remembered the bartender, whose name you eventually learned was Chelsea, asking for a phone number of someone that could pick you up. And although you should’ve given her your roommate’s number, you instead gave her Steve’s.

“I never thought I’d be the one picking you up from a bar,” Steve said as he sat down next to you. “I always thought it would be the other way around.”

“Y’know what they say about college, it changes people,” You told him with a nonchalant shrug. The two of you hadn’t talked in days, but it still felt like second nature to fall back into the joking cadence you had with him. “I’m a total badass now.”

Steve laughed a bit and looked at you amusingly. “Mhm, yeah, sure you are.”

You weren’t as drunk anymore but you were entering the early stages of a hangover that would be a bitch, and you already knew that there was no way you’d be going to your eleven o’clock Statistics class.

“I can’t believe you drove two hours to pick me up,” You said as you settled yourself in the passenger seat of Steve’s car after you paid your pricey tab and goodbyes were said to Chelsea.

Steve offered you a small smile. “What else are best friends for?”

You couldn’t help but look away from him as you mumbled out a soft, “I didn’t know we were still that.”

“We’ll always be that.”

There was so much certainty in his voice that it actually managed to soothe something inside of you. Only for a second, though, because then you were back in your head again.

The drive back to your dorm was quiet with only the soft sounds of the radio to fill the silence. It was a short ride, only about ten minutes, and the entire time you could only focus on your dull headache and what you wanted to say to Steve because you knew that you had to say something. Although you didn’t want to, that night needed to finally be talked about.

When he was parked in front of your building, you still didn’t know exactly what to say, but you decided to start with something. “Listen, about Robin’s party–”

“It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it. Let’s just pretend it never happened,” Steve interrupted you. He pushed a hand through his hair and then met your gaze. “It was really dumb of me to say all of that stuff, and I partially blame it on all the drinks we had— definitely way too many. We’re just friends, I know that. And your life is here now, for the most part, and mine is back in Hawkins, so yeah…” He trailed off with a small shrug.

You suddenly felt nauseous and you knew it had nothing to do with the alcohol. He was saying everything that you fully thought you wanted to hear— what happened at the party should’ve never happened, you two were just friends— so why did it feel so wrong?

Things became quiet and Steve was looking at you expectantly, and you were unsure how long you’d been silent for.

“Um, yeah, exactly,” You finally said as you unbuckled your seatbelt. Before you opened the passenger door to leave his car, you reached over and pulled Steve in for a hug. “Drive safe.”

“Thanks,” He said as his arms circled around you.

For some reason, there was a huge part of you that wanted to say “I’m sorry” in that moment, but you didn’t entirely know why, so instead you said nothing and simply got out of his car.

You headed to the entrance of your dorm building and then turned around, giving Steve a final wave before he drove away.

It was then— as he headed down the street and after a few moments his car became completely out of your view— that you wished you’d been honest; with yourself and with him.

Because it was in that moment of you yearning for him to turn around mixed with you sincerely wanting to go after him that essentially sealed it for you.

Steve was different and he always would be.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“and maybe i don't quite know what to say, but i'm here in your doorway.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You felt slightly lucky that you only had two classes on Thursdays because when you woke up after sleeping through your Statistics class, you knew that you wouldn’t be going to your Psychology class that started at three. And the reasoning actually had nothing to do with your hangover.

Aside from the slight headache, you woke up with your mind feeling completely clear for the first time in a long time. You knew exactly what you wanted and what you wanted to do, and before that feeling could go away, or you could convince yourself to push it away, you were in your car an hour before your class was supposed to start and driving to Hawkins. You were pretty much running off of impulse and hope.

The weather was terrible and you hated driving in the rain, but it didn’t matter to you right then because you needed to see Steve.

You had two long hours of driving in terrible rain to figure out what exactly you wanted to say to him, yet you still couldn’t form a coherent set of sentences in your head. But, similar to the rain, that didn’t stop you from ringing his doorbell.

In hindsight, it probably would’ve been smart to bring an umbrella because it was still pouring and from the short walk from your car to his front door, your clothes managed to become effectively soaked, but it didn’t bother you.

“Hey,” He said when he opened the door, it was easy to tell that he was surprised to see you. “Did you drive all the way here?”

You quickly nodded at his question. “Yes.”

“You hate driving in rain.”

“Yeah, but I… I just really wanted to talk to you, and didn’t wanna do it over the phone.”

“Come inside,” Steve said, pushing the door open wider so that you could step in.

You almost followed him but then stopped. “No, wait… I kinda just wanna say this here.”

Steve looked at you confused, but ultimately nodded. “Okay.” He then stepped out of his house and closed the door behind him; his clothes immediately got wet. “It feels wrong that you’re the only one getting hit by the rain.”

You laughed a bit. “Thank you. That’s very considerate.”

Things got quiet for a second and you suddenly felt nervous, but you pushed that feeling to the side.

“I know you said that we don’t need to talk about the party and we should pretend that it never happened. And although that’s exactly what I’d been doing for the past few days, I don’t wanna do that anymore.” It actually didn’t feel too hard to let all of this out; verbalizing exactly what had been going on in your head. In a way, it felt like a relief. “I think I kissed you that night because deep down I know that it’s you too. And that it’s always been you… Which is actually so scary to think about because we’ve known each other for so long and you’re the one person in my life that has been the biggest constant. You’ve seen every part of my very horrific love life and I don’t want us to end up like any of the stupid relationships I had before, and I think that’s why I ran away that night, which I do really regret.” You pulled your eyes away from his for a second. “But, what we have is different, and I want to try. I want us to try.”

You let out a long breath. “Okay, that’s it.”

Steve didn’t say anything for a few moments, and it was then that you realized how loud the rain was, and somehow it was actually a bit calming to hear the sounds of the heavy drops hitting the ground.

You searched his eyes to see if you could decipher what he was thinking, but before you could get a clear read on anything, he was closing the small bit of distance between you both and reaching up to cup your face in his hands before leaning in to kiss you.

The abruptness of the action slightly startled you, but you were completely okay with this nonverbal response to you pouring your heart out. You were kissing him back almost immediately and suddenly the sound of the rain was gone and instead all you could hear was your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

The kiss felt perfectly new but also so insanely familiar; even though this was the first time this was happening sober. And so many things were running through your mind, but it was also effectively blank and you knew you wouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence even if you tried.

Most of all, though, everything happening right then— the way your hands fisted themselves in his rain soaked t-shirt to pull him impossibly closer to you, and how his thumb stroked your cheek so tenderly— it all felt so certain and sure and right; there wasn’t an ounce of doubt lingering in the air around you both or lacing its way within the kiss.

When you pulled away to catch your breath and smiled up at him, a smile that Steve immediately matched with an elated grin of his own, it slightly killed you that all of this hadn't happened sooner.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“i just wanted you to know that this is me trying.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington

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pomefioredove · 3 months ago

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Heyyy! I love your writing so so much :) I was wondering if you could write headcanons for how vil and rook (plus any other characters you might wanna write for!) would react to yuu struggling with a panic disorder or just having panic attacks in general. i’ve been curious how the whole “transported to another world” thing would work with someone who takes meds. like i wonder if they would use magic to help with anxiety or plants? i’m not sure but I’m interested to hear your thoughts!🤍 p.s if you’re not comfortable writing about this, i more than understand! have a nice day :))

oh, of course!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ reader who has panic attacks

type of post: headcanons characters: vil, rook additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

while there may be no version of the medication you had at home, Vil is still willing to find you an equivalent

he has access to the best doctors and psychiatrists available, of course

and he'd rather you feel happy and safe than not

of course, it's your choice

and he's a creative man

that is, he has lots of options for you

it just depends on what you prefer. meditation, breathing exercises, he even has some teas with calming effects

he's prepared

...after all, Vil is not a paragon of mental health himself

and he's no stranger to panic attacks

he'll reassure you that it's nothing to be ashamed of, and he wants to help however he can

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Rook may have less resources, but he's no less determined

anything you need, you'll have it

he will find a way

he learns to recognize the earliest signs of an attack

and he's especially attentive in triggering places/situations/et cetera

he's adaptable, too, though!

always prepared to drop everything and get you somewhere safe

no matter where you are or what you're doing

he's quite serious about it, after all

when he loves, he loves strongly, and you and your safety are most important to him

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader

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sorcerous-caress · 1 year ago

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So fun fact about me irl I work with children but often my teacher language slips out like telling my friends to say “bye bye bus”, telling another person in my lecture writing to “be nice to the pencil, it’s your friend.” And greeting a roomful of grown as adults with good morning boys and girls. It’s mortifying but How do you think the companions would react to having a teacher!tav slip up like that.

Dealing with a Teacher Tav

[Bg3, fluff, platonic kinda, nb!reader]

[Gale, Shadowheart, Laezel, Wyll, Karlach, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Jaheira, Minsc]

Gale

He delightfully plays along whenever you tell him to thank a stranger or say goodbye to an inanimate object. He thinks it's very silly and joyous.

Teachers have always been a big part of his life, it doesn't phase him in the slightest when you unawarly awake the deep memories of being in wizards pre-school for him.

Says good morning to you back, adding a teacher honorific at the end for the sake of being playful while asking if you've finally graded the homework he handed in.

He gives you an apple occasionally. He thinks he is very hilarious.

Shadowheart

She freezes in awkwardness whenever it happens, not sure if you’re being serious or just playing around. Sometimes, you don't even register slipping up as go on with your day, leaving her wondering if she's imagining things.

She has zero experience with the school system, completely confused by the need to say thank you for carriage after it arrived. It's just a carriage, why should she?

One time while her and Laezel were arguing, you used the same call you'd use in the classroom to get the kids to quiet down and it completely caught them both off guard. They just stood there baffled, forgetting their original argument.

Laezel

Why, yes, she is very familiar with teachers. In fact, she was the best out of her class, ask any githyanki teacher, and they'd tell you endless praise about her throat cutting techniques and sword welding stances.

You, whoever, use very unusual teaching techniques. How would learning a song about washing your hand and brushing your teeth help her in slaying her enemies?

Intriguing, so you take advantage of the brain's tendency to latch on to phrases that rhyme, which makes them easier to remember? And you encode your melodies with instructions to embed them into the impressionable youth?

Huh. She actually is impressed. She made her decision, you will lend your teaching skills to help her embed the most effect way of fracturing someone's spine into a melody to spread to the githyanki children.

Wyll

As someone who has been an unofficial teacher for so many kids throughout his years, he can relate to your struggle a lot. He slips up more than he cares to admit.

The both of you meeting early in the morning while still groggy and tired, your brains working on automatic mods as you greet each other with the same high pitched enthusiastic voice you use to greet a toddler.

Then just stare at each other, complete understanding between the two of you. Like two people accidentally using their customer service voice in front of the other.

You struggle to tie your boots once, and he unconsciously bends down to tie them for you while using the rabbit loop euphemism, only to stop in his tracks as he realises what he's doing.

He uses a curse word once, and you immediately use your teachers voice and say, "we don't speak like that here, that's wasn't very nice."

You're both tired, you both need a nap and neither of you brings it up when the other slips.

Karlach

Much like Gale, she finds it extremely amusing. Top tier comedy to her. Unlike Gale, she hasn't been to any proper schooling system, so she doesn't exactly know what most of these phrases mean or imply.

In a way, it lets her pretend she was a part of something like a school in her youth, like she could've had a normal childhood like everyone else.

She'd indulge you, saying goodbye and thank you to the pigeon that delivered her a letter, or overhearing Wyll's rabbit loop ryhme and whispering it under her breath as she ties her own boots. Who knew this could've been so easy?

Astarion

You remind him of how Leon was with his daughter back in Cazador's manor. Astarion never was close with any of them, but still, he sometimes overheard him attempting to give his daughter a semblance of a normal childhood and growth.

It's endearing when you accidentally use your teaching ways while dealing with the owlbear cub, but he'll never admit it.

Doesn't indulge you with it, he has appearance to keep. Well, unless he has a chance to twist your innocent meaning words into a sex or gorey joke like the 12y old humour that he has.

Ah, the scrowl on your face is the exact same one Leon had around him, such fond memories.

Halsin

Ah, you bring him back to his old days of having to deal with the children at the grove. Although his methods focused more on showing them that nature is a friend rather than inanimate objects.

But who is he to judge your ways? If anything he could learn a thing or two from you to add to his skillset.

Tells you about the fables that were passed down from elf to elf throughout the generations, animal stories have always done a great part in teaching him morality.

Do you happen to have any? Maybe you could tell it to the children of the grove, they are good kids.

Minthara

As a noble, she was only given the best and most prestigious of teachers while growing up. Even the ones that weren't a drow would still be considered the best of the best, crème de la crème.

Yet not a single one of them applied such...childish methods. etiquette and discipline were taught by the lash and threat of punishment, not lullabies and gentle guidance.

....it's not as bad as she imagined.

She doesn't get why some of your companions find it amusing. She doesn't bother indulging either.

But sometimes, sometimes, when it's just the two of you, and she is sure not a single soul is around, she will reply with a pun with the most deadpan face expression you've seen.

Jaheira

Despite what most would think, she actually integrated the same methods into her teachings back when her kids were little, it just happened to be weaved with her more dangerous lifestyle ascept.

Here comes the plane, with the airplane usual holding a good dosage amount of poison to build resistance.

A short rhyme about what to check before leaving the house, except the list has a suspicious amount of daggers and trap disarm kits in it.

If it works, it works, so what if she had to alter a kid's book about a honey loving yellow bear into one with decipherable texts to teach them Harpers' secret communication language.

Minsc

Ah! Boo does use the same method on him sometimes, the two of you have a lot in common. Although Boo's methods do involve a bit of biting every now and then.

Say, how about he teaches you some fables from Rashemen, a lot of them are about a rabbit who got lost after not listening to his witch frog companion.

You could use it in your teachings later! Show the youth the importance of good teamwork. Yes, he is aware of the fact he didn't listen to Jaheira and got captured by the cult. No, he doesn't see why this is relevant? Why is Boo suddenly agreeing with you? He is supposed to be on his side.

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novalpha · 1 year ago

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𝘑𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘢 𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠

♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut) || ✹ Humor

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Virgin killer ♡★ -> @wonusite Part 2

Synopsis: You can’t stand the clear line the cute nerd in your calculus class always draws between you two. However, you’re determined to show him that there’s a fine line between love and hate. And if you happen to get him to cross that line, even better.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Anonymously Yours ♡୨୧✹ -> @joonsytip

Synopsis: After an accidental text message turns into a digital friendship, you and Joshua start crushing on each other without realizing you both see each other frequently in real life. Notable Mention: You both hate each other's guts....

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Pretty when you cry ★ -> @cheolhub

summary. joshua just loves how pretty you look when you’re in tears.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Say it back ♡ -> @diamondyjh

Synopsis: A tipsy Joshua is a clingy Joshua.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Vanilla ★♡ -> @milfgyuu

Summary: Joshua has a secret but perhaps it’s not really a secret at all. Maybe you’ve just refused to see it in an effort to keep your feelings at bay.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Wildest dreams ♡✹ -> @viastro

synopsis: it’s your last year of school forever, and you’re about to meet the most horrifying chapter of life: the real world. now worrying about your life’s lack of spontaneity, you decide to get married to your best friend in vegas for 24 hours.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Beautiful day Sunday morning ★♡ -> @sluttywoozi

Summary: Joshua’s tried everything, but he just can’t stop being in love with his best friend

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Steamy ★ -> @duhnova

next door neighbor!joshua - unfortunately in the middle of your shower your hot water breaks so you have to go next door and ask your unnaturally hot neighbor if you can use his

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Domino ♡✹★ -> @universecorp

Summary: After a one night stand on your birthday, you never expected to meet the stranger again. You also never expected him to enter your life permanently.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Under the rose ♡★ -> @just-come-baek

Summary: You’ve known Joshua your entire life, and it has always irked you when he got praised for the same things you were scolded for. You hate these societal double standards thrown upon you almost as much as people who judge you for it. Thankfully, you have Joshua, who just gets you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Late to the party ★ -> @sluttywoozi Part 2 , Sundress Szn

Summary: You try to convince Joshua to go to Cheol's birthday party. Joshua tries to convince you to have a party for two | husband!joshua, husband joshua is horny and in love with you

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Your gentleman ★ -> @wonwussy

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Leaning on the everlasting arms ♡୨୧★ -> @onlyhuis

synopsis | as kids growing up in the same church, you and joshua were inseperable, until you got to an age where it was considered immoral for girls and boys to be friends. when you find him again just before graduation, he's different than you remember; but so are you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Best friend's brother ♡୨୧★ -> @chocosvt

synopsis: joshua happens to be your best friend's older brother. he's pretty, and he's got a lot of cool details about him that you pay a concerning amount of attention to, but he’s just a friend (if you could even call it that). still, what does he think of you, anyway? that is—if he thinks of you.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ To you ♡୨୧★ -> @onlymingyus

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Fine line ♡୨୧★ -> @heartkyeom

synopsis: as a joshua fangirl, getting the chance to interview him as a teenager was an absolute dream. 10 years later with a flourishing career as a writer and a strained relationship with him, he wants to do a 10 year reunion interview about his path to the upcoming Olympics. there’s only one problem: you’re staying at his house and trying not to address your old feelings for him.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Untitled ♡୨୧ -> @gyu-effect

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Paint by numbers ♡୨୧ -> @chocosvt

synopsis: somebody new just moved into the upstairs apartment. they’re loud, irritatingly sweet, and unfortunately, very pretty. but you’re not looking for a new relationship, even if it comes in the form of joshua hong.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Golden Hour ♡ -> @dkfile

summer ends in less than a month, leaving you with a limited amount of time to build up the courage to profess your undying love for your best friend before he leaves again for college. alternatively the summer of pining, featuring a group of annoyed bystanders.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Cranberry concoctions ♡୨୧★ -> @onlyhuis

synopsis | you came to the infamous diamond glass looking for a good cocktail. instead, you found love in a hot bartender who also makes the best cosmos you’ve ever had.

[ More joshua recs will be updated ]

Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click here

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nonotnolan · 6 months ago

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Jock Cock, Part 2

Check out Part 1 here.

"Excuse me, Professor Jones?" I wasn't expecting to be recognized out in public, but I did live in town, and it wasn't unheard of for a few of my more friendly students to engage in small talk if they happened to see me out grocery shopping or what have you. I'm usually too introverted to develop deep bonds with students, especially over a trivial intro course, but some people just want to be social.

"Please, just Mr. Jones. Or Kevin. I'm a teaching assistant, not a… Jared?" I certainly wasn't expecting a member of the basketball team greeting me out in public. "Do I… I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting to be recognized. I don't think you've ever been enrolled in one of my classes?"

He smiled at me, letting his bags drop to the ground. "Well, we've crossed paths before, I just didn't make much of an impression on you. I don't take it personally, I was a pretty non-descript guy." The thought of Jared ever blending into a crowd was… ridiculous, to say the least. My skepticism must have shown up on my face, because he started laughing at me. "The real me, not Jared. I'm the same guy who swapped with Adam last month."

I could feel the heat radiating from my cheeks as I recalled that night. He dumped three different loads in my ass once he was no longer my student. It was one of the most risky hookups I have ever had, but that made it all the more exciting. Especially since the man inside of Adam's body clearly had experience. Most guys with a fuck stick over seven inches were terrible in bed, but he was diligent about both foreplay and aftercare. Snuggling against a tight chest of rippling muscles, breathing deeply the manly aroma of his musky pits, gazing deeply into his eyes as his fingers ran through my hair… I didn't even realize I was daydreaming until I felt the strain of my cock against my boxer briefs.

"You wanna do it again?" he said, whispering softly. "Jared hired me to take care of Summer School exams for him. I've still got two more days inside of this body, and I'd love to see you again. That razor sharp mind of yours is just… the fucking sexiest thing about you, Kev. I want to be near you, I want to pull you in close and hold you tight." The stranger's hand slid down to his crotch and cupped his junk. "And I want to rail you with this jock cock until you scream."

I started to fidget with my suit jacket. "Jared... Adam... whoever it is that you are... look, it was risky enough when you were in the body of someone who graduated. Jared is... what, a junior? He's barely 21. And he's still a student"

"But he's not your student," countered the stranger. "I looked up the university policy. It only matters if there is a conflict of interest, like student and teacher. And age means nothing as long as the body is legal, which it is. Besides, you're... what, mid 30s? A bit older? That's nothing for hookup culture."

As always, the man had a point. Was he always this confident, or was that a side effect of wearing a jock's skin? "I mean, you're right, I just... I'm not a big fan of hookup culture. I know we had that night when you were Adam, but... I'd much rather go on a date and get to know you first. And I can't help but feel guilty that these athletes don't know you're having sex in their bodies, so that plus the hookup guilt is... it's a bit much for me. I really should say no. It's not personal."

Jared, the man inside of Jared, just smiled at me. "I don't know what sort of operation you think I'm running, but I make them all sign contracts that outline everything I'm allowed to do while I'm inside in their body, sex included. So if you don't want a hookup, I guess I'll just have to hang out a bit before we fuck. Why don't you come back to my place? We can hang out at the pool before we head upstairs."

"Pretty nice apartment complex, right? Jared's parents are loaded." He smiled at me as I glanced around the property. I knew the buildings in this part of town were incredibly expensive, but I didn't realize just how extravagant they were.

My eyes were drawn to the water droplets running down his muscular pecs. "Well, honestly, I assumed it was due to his status as a star athlete," I said, trying to keep my eyes focused on his face.

He shook his head. "Nah, they barely get paid anything, and the regulations around it are pretty bullshit. The scholarships cover the classes, but anything else is a crapshoot. Most of the athletes I hop into, I have them pay me by giving me extra time in their body. I don't think I could ever develop all this," he gestured at his chest for emphasis, "on my own. Being a jock is a lot of hard work and dedication, but borrowing it? Much easier. I love being able to borrow bodies like this, and doing their schoolwork is a breeze. It's a pretty sweet gig for someone like me."

"It sounds like you're being a bit hard on yourself, Mr...?"

The man in Jared's body shrugged. "Call me Mike, if you want. Or you can call me Fuck. That's what you'll be screaming later, when I'm balls deep in that ass of yours." It was one of the dumbest lines I'd heard, but the delivery was aided by the absolute stud who said it. "Come on, let's head upstairs. If you want a date, we can have coffee between rounds."

"You are going to be the death of me," I said, panting for breath. I could feel the sweat dripping down my thighs-- among other fluids, given that I'd already taken two loads from Mike's current body. I was falling for him, hard. "Okay, I have to be awkward. You clearly have a crush on me if you're trying to find me when you're in these hot bodies. But if you're not going to let me return the favor… where do you see this going?"

He just started laughing. "Why does it have to go anywhere? We're just two gay guys enjoying a series of casual hookups. It happens all the time."

I rolled off of the mattress and walked over to where I had tossed off most of my clothes. "Because I want it to go somewhere, Jar-- Mike. I don't want to have a series of casual hookups. I know a lot of guys are fine with that sort of culture, but… I'm not. I need more than this."

"Whoa, hey…" He came up behind me and pulled me close, and I could feel the warmth of his body. "Kevin. My guy. You don't even know what I look like. Are you in love with me, the idea of me, or the jock cock that I can provide to you?" He started grinding his growing erection against my bare ass for emphasis-- God, of course Jared's body was already prepared for round three. "I promise you, a relationship will never live up to your dreams. Don't ruin a good thing by trying to get even more. Just sit back and enjoy the dick, for as long as I can supply it."

I brushed his arm off my shoulder and stepped further away. "I can't… Mike, I'm not going to settle for 'good enough' in matters of love. And if that means ruining a good thing to chase what I want… what I need? That's what I'm going to do." I kept waiting for him to say something as I started getting dressed, but he just stared at me with his arms crossed.

He followed me out of the apartment, though he remained silent as he walked behind me. I guess he thought I would realize that his dick was too good to leave, and he had been right all along? I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. We were both too stubborn to admit defeat.

"I'll… see you around in some other college stud, I guess."

Check out Part 3 here.

#male body swap #gay body swap #after the swap #nerd to jock #muscle jock #male body magic #queer romance #gay male story #jock cock

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atzfilm · 1 year ago

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— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [1] (M)

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

— pairing: ot8 x reader (this chapter); seonghwa x reader; 10.6k

— note: this is a yandere fic. sensitive topics such as manipulation, gaslighting, murder, and other topics involved with the genre. please heed the warnings and read this work of fiction while keeping this in mind.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: murder, manipulation, blood, blood drinking, torture references, dark magic, kidnapping references, emotional turmoil

You keep your head down, grip tightening as you make your way through the marketplace. Conversations are hushed, eyes warily rolling over your figure. It's enough of an irritant for you to pull your hood over your head. It's easy to spot strangers around here. Unfortunately, you are still one. Despite your relationship with Soobin, none of them have treated you as part of the community. And it’s not as if you haven’t tried. Inviting them over to your shared apartment, greeting them each time you passed by. All of it was met with blank stares, scowls curving their lips. You're sure if you strained your ears enough to listen you'd hear side comments about you; how you don't belong, how you've brought the faeries into the city. None of it is true of course, you stepping foot into town and the sudden disappearances happening at the exact same time are just coincidences.

It's what you hope, at least.

"Hiding in plain sight?"

You step into his shop, catching him placing a book lightly on the shelf. He glances at you, a soft smile on his lips. He steps around the counter and despite the now leaning stack of books in his hands, he leans around it to press a light kiss to your lips, then your forehead. It eases your anxiousness briefly, your hood slipping off your head as you lean against the counter. In moments like this it reminds you of what you’re here for, why you tolerate the silent isolation they give you. If it weren’t for Soobin you would have left town long ago.

"Think it'll keep their eyes off of me?" You murmur. He sends you a sympathetic look, enough for you to think otherwise. You sigh, pulling at loose strands. "I know I know, long shot.”

“They will learn to love you as easily as I have,” he moves back in front of the shelf, glancing at the titles before placing them in the correct spots. “I know that their words are alarming, but you moving in with me has no effect on the town disappearances. Some people just don’t find their way home,” he shrugs, watching as your eyes narrow. “It’s the truth!”

“Bin, they won’t accept me until the people are found. You know that.”

“Then we wait until they are found, y/n. Don’t worry yourself over things like this. It’ll be fine.”

You nod only to calm him down for the moment, your thoughts otherwise. From what you hear, faeries haven’t been seen around this town in decades, most targeting the large metropolitan areas rather than cities with populations in the lower thousands. Interestingly enough, despite your move from the city to here, you have yet to spot one faerie folk. Unlikely that you would. Though, you do hear the older residents speak of them.

The Fae folk are often mischievous, luring their victims into the thickened woods with soft words, tempting sounds. The Rowan trees at the edge of town are often the type of forestry that they reside in, stealing unsuspecting people from their lives. You’ve avoided the path since you’ve learned of it. Moreso now due to the vanishings. Who would have known that the tales of the past were riddled with truth? It only unsettles you more, knowing that there’s other things out there not yet discovered. But still, the information on the Fae is limited. All you’ve found is minimal, unimportant. No human has yet to figure out a way to stop them entirely – or if they are even real at all. There’s a myth that four-leaf clovers stop them in their tracks, so you see the paintings across every part of town. It has done nothing to stop the disappearances. The attempts are all in vain.

What is known is that you do not pray in circumstances like this. The ones that will listen are not who you would like to grant your wishes. You were never religious, your upbringing leaning towards a more lax nature. But even you think that you should keep the missing in your thoughts. At least enough to hope they return safely. You doubt it's the mysterious unseen faeries, but you can't help but try and aid somehow.

“How’d the interview go?” He asks, grabbing your attention.

You slowly sink into one of the seats. “Remember when you told me Ben and you were friends? And that he’d go easy on me?”

He groans. “What did he do?”

“Told me that he’s only doing this interview for you and shut the door. Loudly by the way, then I left. I’m pretty sure he lit some type of spiritual incense to get rid of my bad energy.”

“It’s not that. You know that.”

“Well, I did,” you murmur. “Not so sure anymore. It’s fine, don’t worry too much about it. I’ll get over it.” You strongly do not think you’ll get over it, but you just hope that the thoughts don’t linger in Soobin’s mind too long. He’s insisted weeks ago that the two of you move away from this town and open his bookstore somewhere else, but you’ve convinced him otherwise. The two of you aren’t even married yet nor engaged. You wouldn’t want him to pick up his whole life just because you feel slightly uncomfortable with the stares on you. Or the whispers each time you enter a room. You can handle it. You just need to let out your grievances occasionally.

“Telling me not to worry will only make me worry more, love,” he places his hands on either side of the chair you sit on, lightly nudging your forehead with his. “I love you.”

“I know.”

“And I’m not going to leave you because some townsfolk are scared of a woman who made a popcorn bag catch on fire in the microwave.”

“Soobin!” You nudge him and he laughs, moving away from you and back to his tasks. “You’re such an ass.”

He rolls his eyes, continuing to stock his shelves and tend to customers. You’ve noticed that some are startled when they see you, so you decide to hide out in the back of his store, headphones over your ears to drown out the whispers of disdain and dread. Soobin scolds them each time they do it, but it only seems to drive their intentions. After a few minutes of hearing him argue you decide it’s best to no longer listen.

“It’s your turn, Seonghwa. Continuing to tuck yourself behind literature will not slow down time. Soon the others will come and find where you’ve hidden yourself.”

Seonghwa sighs as he listens to San’s words, peering over the stack of writings. Its grown since the last time San entered his room; piles upon piles of literature is littered around him, some of it very close to the entrance of the room. The others never really bothered to enter his personal space because of it, but San was just in here yesterday. How is it already crowded? Especially considering how neat Seonghwa is. “Must it be tonight? We’ve delayed it for longer.”

“We’re all hungry. You know what happens when it’s taken too far. I’d rather not clean up any of our messes again,” San points out, Seonghwa’s frown only deepening. “It’s our second to last one for this town, then we’re moving on. Too many disappearances will make the authorities search the Rowan. It’ll only cause more slaughter.”

“Then so be it,” Seonghwa says. He hides himself behind the stack once more. The sound of pages flipping fills the quiet.

“Hwa…” His voice drags now, whining, twisting each syllable. “The Seelies are on our backs."

“Fine,” Seonghwa places the book on the top of the stacks, stepping around it to meet San’s eyes. His sleepwear wraps around him, glasses resting at the edge of his nose. For a moment, he finds the sight endearing. “There’s a fair tonight to ward off faeries with their limited resources. Enough of a distraction to steal another.”

"Great!" San replies happily.

"It's a bit cold to have a festival, no?" You say, passing Soobin his bag. He thanks you, placing it on his back. "The harvest will be fine like it always is. And you're a bookstore owner, not a farmer. Ever think about not attending one?"

"It's to support everyone in the neighborhood, y/n. We know everyone, and they'll know I'm not around. Plus, it'll bring a great harvest of customers to the bookstore," He grins at your eye roll at his pun."Come and you'll see. It'll be fun."

That's the last thing you want to do. Be around people who hate you in the middle of the night around burning logs? A recipe for a disaster. "I don't know…"

"They said you wouldn't show," he adds, grabbing his hat off the coat hanger. "This will prove them wrong. Maybe it'll stop the weird rumors that are spreading for no reason? They'll see you're kind and pretty and safe, and have nothing to do with the disappearances. They'll love you like I love you."

You shouldn't care what others think. In fact you really don't care much at all. But Soobin cares deeply, and having you around the bookstore meant that you would have to care. So you give him a brave face, following him out the bookstore and twisting the lock behind you. The two of you have had prior discussions, most ending in a moot point. You care for each other more than anything – you'd give him the world if asked. And he consistently, without falter, told you that he would leave this all behind if you couldn't take it any longer. You've thought it over. If tonight doesn't somewhat boost your position in this town – you're not sure you'll be able to stand it any longer. There's only so many snide remarks one could take.

Soobin and you pass by closed shops and darkened porches, making your way to the gathering. You see the clovers painted on walls and doors, handing up along roofs and banisters. He catches your eyes, smiling.

"Think it makes the faeries go away?"

You purse your lips, "Probably not. They're more clever than we make them out to be." If they're real, you finish in your head. "It stumps me a bit how a formation of leaves would stop them in their place. They love nature don't they? Why would they hate a perfect formation of it?"

"A folktale," he shrugs. "That's why I keep it in my sign. People around here heard about a woman being saved because she had one in her pocket, so they think it'll save them when a faerie comes crawling around." He rolls his eyes. "Doubt it'll stop them."

You laugh along with him, meaningless conversation exchanged between the two of you. Eventually, you make it into the clearing. Most people you recognize already, all giving greetings to Soobin. Some even say hello to you, much to your surprise. You stand a bit away from the crowd, thanking Soobin for passing you a marshmallow and stick. You chat along with him for a while, until something from the corner of your eye bothers you. You don't look, at first, a creepy feeling crawling over your skin. Eventually, you decide it's best to get it over with than continue to feel uncomfortable.

A man across the fire shifts your attention for a moment. He holds a cup in his hand, sipping slowly as he stares into the flames. You’ve never seen him before. Strangers do often enter the fairs to enjoy a vacation away from their homes. Ordinary in itself, yet there seems to be someone odd about him. He wears a long, black overcoat despite the temperature, hair pulled back by darkened frames on his head. His eyes slowly move, almost meeting yours until you look away.

The air around you feels a bit colder.

“You’re going to break the cup if you hold it any tighter,” Soobin laughs, tilting his head to block your view. His smile slowly drops, concern in his gaze. “Are you alright?”

“Fine, just feeling a little chilly,” you murmur, moving a bit closer to the fire. Soobin pulls you into his side, giving you a chance to send a fleeting glance at the man. Unfortunately for you, he no longer stands there. And even more odd, it feels as if he's still there, watching you.

You’re not the superstitious type due to you never seeing faeries, a part of you doesn’t believe in them at all. But rarely did anyone ever come to these celebrations that didn’t live here. The way that the stranger stands out makes your insides twist. Him fading into the darkness – no human could do such a thing.

Perhaps you should have stayed home after all.

"It is a bit chilly tonight," Soobin agrees, tucking you closer underneath his arm. "The winds must be telling a story." You know he's trying to comfort you. You're not hiding whatever is bothering you at all. A bit comical that you're attempting to. You were never one to conceal your emotions, face as literal as a child's painting. "Are my reassurances that boring?" He teases.

You pull yourself from the grip of your thoughts, shaking your head. "I think I should go," voice barely louder than the buzzing of the fireflies. "I don't want you to freak, but something feels off."

"Off?" His brows furrow, glancing around. "Like?"

You're thankful that he always believes in your intuition. "Like there's something in the crowd that doesn't belong. I know it sounds stupid, and I know I'm the last person to believe in that stuff but I just feel it, you know?"

"We should leave then." He stands up, hand sliding into yours with ease. "We've hung around enough already. No need to stay longer than necessary."

"I don't want you to feel like you have to follow."

"I wouldn't let you walk back home alone."

He agrees swiftly and you're thankful for it. Soobin guides you around the crowd of people, exchanging goodbyes as you leave the gathering. Soon enough it's only the two of you leaving the woods. You walk swifter than him. sparing a glance every once in a while to make sure he's close.

“One.”

“Two…”

“Soobin, come on,” You try peeking through the mask he holds over your eyes, but he secures his hold, giggles echoing in your ear.

“Two,” you groan, though smiling.

“Three!” He pulls off the blindfold, stepping away from you. At first, you’re a bit confused, at least until you look at the counter. Your own eyes widen at the sight, looking between it and Soobin. A very unlike you squeal escapes your lips, running over the carpet and piles of books he has yet to put away. You grab the small journal, hand dragging over the ridges and markings. It’s one you’ve had your eye on for months now, hoping and praying (and saving) that no one would be able to buy it before you. Just a week ago, you complained to Soobin – very much on the verge of tears – that you saw it was sold and couldn’t handle it. He comforted you in that moment and told you that things happen for a reason. Back then, you were too distraught to notice the slight grin on his lips as he held you close. You look back at your partner.

He stands there proud, hands on his hips, chest puffed out. Without another word you stumble over the books and things laid about, throwing yourself into his arms. He laughs at the sudden push, steadying himself against the wall. Once he stabilizes himself, he holds you close, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Like it?”

All you can do is nod into his chest, overcome with emotion. It might be a bit silly to other people, the way you’re reacting to a mere journal. But it means a lot to you. It’s something you’ve dreamed about holding in your hands for years, and he fulfilled your wish. You’re not sure anything else could top this. It's been a few days since the incident in the forest. Your life is as mundane as ever and you're thankful for it.

“I love you,” you whisper. “I really do love you."

“I know,” he murmurs back. “I love you more.”

“Shut up,“ you punch his chest lightly, ignoring the tears falling down your cheeks. “I can’t believe you spent so much – “

“Ah ah ah,” he presses his pointer finger against your lips, shushing you. “You’re not allowed to talk about the price. I know how you are.”

“But it’s so –“

“Beautiful, yes. It’s beautiful just like you,” he agrees, laughing at the frown on your face. His thumb wipes away your tears, “y/n, I know you’ve been trying to hide it. I know you don’t like it here. And I know you’ve been struggling with being ostracized by the townsfolk. I’ve noticed how it’s been affecting you. I’ve asked so many times if it was okay and you insisted that it is even though you feel otherwise. So, spending money on something you can enjoy is the least I can do. You’ve sacrificed a lot for me to have this bookstore. If I can make you happy, I’d do anything.”

Without another word you press your lips against his, a laugh escaping him as he holds you tight.

Seonghwa slams open the door, throwing his coat against the rack. He doesn't bother picking it up, majik floating it back to the hook. The others soon pour in, groaning at the lack of a sacrifice behind him another day more. Just as they begin to scold, Hongjoong enters first. Seeing the anger rising in Seonghwa, he tells the others to leave the room with a brief look. San looks the most worried, but Hongjoong pats him, a silent comfort. Once they’re all gone Hongjoong moves to his potions. He doesn't bother waiting for Seonghwa to speak, knowing that he would just let it brew until he explodes.

"Is it about that human again?"

Seonghwa meekly nods.

"What did you see?" He asks simply.

"A human, there was a human woman. But it wasn't like any other…" He trails off, mind lost. "I cannot explain it. But it didn't even flinch at my attempts to shift its mind. It only blinked at me, Hongjoong. I thought it might be because I haven't fed, so I tried it on another and it worked. How is that possible? Tell me.”

Hongjoong frowns, delicately balancing a glass between his fingers, “Delusions?”

“It was real!”

“Alright, no need to yell,” Hongjoong waves the steam from the glass through the air. “A human woman, you said? And you’re sure it wasn’t a Seelie teasing you?”

Seonghwa begins to pace back and forth. “There was no majik used while I was attempting to enter her head. But there was a wall, something blocking me from it. I tried to penetrate but stopped once I noticed my majik draining rapidly. No one was ever able to do anything like that to me. Never. In all honesty, I would have dragged her here to be tested but her human partner intercepted.”

“It made you out to be a fool,” Hongjoong teases, ignoring the glare he shoots at him. “It’s a human, Seonghwa. There isn’t a shield in their mind that you cannot penetrate. But it doesn’t matter now, you’ve brought the other with you, right?”

"The other…?"

"The human, Hwa. The one to feed on."

“Yes, but –”

“Then let the others feed. We can figure out this strange human later. Look in your literature if you must, but it shouldn’t be anything too odd. Perhaps it’s just an anomaly. Though it happens once a millennia, it is possible.”

“...So I shouldn’t worry?” His brows furrow, looking at his friend. Hongjoong places his glass on the side, moving closer to Seonghwa. He rests his fingers on his collarbone, slipping them beneath his cloak. Said man shivers at the touch, eyes shut. Hongjoong presses his lips against it. “Don’t distract me Joong.”

He grins into his skin, lightly pecking the skin before drawing back. “Don’t worry. After they feed, I can ask one of the others to see what’s wrong. Perhaps Wooyoung, he does enjoy mingling around humans. It might let something slip and we’ll figure out what’s going on.”

Seonghwa frowns, “He’s the last one that should go. San always has to chase after him when he does something unsightly.”

“First of all,” Wooyoung peers into the room through the crack in the door that he created several years ago (long story short: chasing after Jongho with a potion), “I am very well-behaved around humans. I haven’t done anything remotely unapproved in centuries, a millennia, even! One night out to woo the human isn’t going to cause a national tragedy.”

“Ah, do you recall Pompeii?” A voice from the hallway, Mingi probably, fading into the distance. Wooyoung glares, stepping into the room.

“That was one volcano.”

"You are a risk," Seonghwa says simply, turning back to Hongjoong. "It's fine. I’ll go. I’ll monitor and see if there is anything of concern, and I'll report back. It will be simpler that way," he glances at the pouting Wooyoung. "And much safer."

"Whatever," Hongjoong shrugs. "Not this time Wooyoung. We can't risk it. The human might already know more than we think. We have to play it safe for now."

Wooyoung frowns, "Mistake. He'll gut the human before we'll ever get the chance to meet her."

"Hey–"

"He won't," Hongjoong adds. "At least not yet. We have to convince her to come here so we can do testing. He can do it. Now let's go enjoy the feast with the others. The mood is too low around here." Seonghwa tries to catch his eyes but Hongjoong avoids them purposefully, fingers entwined with his as he drags him from the room, Wooyoung close.

Their home is rather large to house the leaders of the Unseelie. Meetings are often conducted from their parlor or garden. Maintained by the majik flowing through the air, they glide along the marble floors, vines curling around their furniture and sculptures. They can hear the music as they move closer to the others, need filling their minds. Feeding is scarce these days – humans are more wary of faeries now than ever. Balls and masquerades are rare, if ever. They've settled for one human every few weeks shared amongst them. Hongjoong encourages his friend to step forward, a sigh escaping his lips as the doors open.

The two enter the room, a disgruntled look on Seonghwa’s face, Hongjoong trailing after. The others sit in a circle as the human dances with San, twirling around in circles over and over again. Seonghwa slides in his designated seat next to Wooyoung, ignoring the grin he sends him.

“You’re tainting my good mood, Wooyoung.”

“Are you ever in a good mood? Weren’t you upset earlier that the special edition of that kit you wanted didn’t arrive yet? Before you left for that human again.”

Seonghwa widens his eyes, “It’s been over a year. They said it would ship out last week, but I never got a notification!”

“Oh woe is you,” Wooyoung teases, leaping from his seat when he sees Seonghwa’s arm rise. “Hey! You said no more flora!”

“It’s fungi this time,” Seonghwa frowns, but drops his hand. Wooyoung lets out a sigh of relief, glancing at the two dancing. The human’s feet are bloodied now, stumbling over the jagged rocks on the ground. It cries, San’s laugh in juxtaposition at the sound. The smell of blood fills the air, Wooyoung's eyes darkening at the scent. The others begin to match his expression, surrounding the human. It does not understand what's happening because of the majik. They die as happy as they live. Seelie have more morally sound ways of killing humans but it is all the same in the end. The Unseelie just like to have more fun. San pulls the human’s face close to his, breathing in its essence. The human grows paler, slowly surrounded by the eight.

The echo of a body falling to the floor surrounds them.

"Sales have gone sour," Soobin reads over the end of day report, his frown creating lines decorating his forehead "Barely hit even today. It's like everyone's forgotten we exist."

"It will get better," you say softly, nudging him with your knee. He would usually give you a reassuring smile, but he doesn't react at all, narrowing his eyes. "Bin…"

"We can't continue like this," he murmurs. "Sales just keep going lower and lower. I've been here forever and it's never been this bad. I mean… Hell, my opening day I made more sales than today. And at that time no one knew I even opened the shop. I just don't get why they're not coming around anymore."

You. It's all you. They're afraid of you.

Soobin seems to read your flattened expression, shaking his head. "It's not you."

"It's been going downhill ever since I've been around. I’m the cause of it, Soobin. We can't just ignore that."

"It's a correlation, not causation. And people came in anyway. There's no valid reason why this would be all your fault, y/n. I promise you that."

“What else could it be then, Soobin? They’ve all told you that they don’t like me. You know that they avoid me every chance they get. People see me in the shop and turn the other way. I’m the one that’s continuing to burden you, and you know it,” you rub your face. “I thought in the beginning, coming here would somehow help you, bring this shop to where we want it to be. But it seems to be the opposite. It seems like… like my presence is everything wrong about this place–”

“You can’t keep blaming yourself,” he protests. He takes a step to you but you take one back, shaking your head. He drops his outstretched hands, a sigh escaping his lips. “Then what do you suggest? If you think it’s true?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “Leave? Not you, just me. To see if the sales pick up. To see what’s really going on around here.”

He slowly shakes his head, “No.”

“Soo–”

“It’s like…” he furrowed his eyebrows. “It’s like you’re ignoring everything I tell you. I’ve told you so many times that we can leave if you’re uncomfortable. That we can leave together, but you insisted on staying here. Dealing with the people. And I know you’re doing it for me y/n, I know that. But I don’t want you to be miserable, and I don’t want you to live like this. I know we’re not at the stage of being life partners yet. I know we aren’t married. But sometimes it feels like you put your feelings below mine, and I just don’t think that’s okay you know? All it does is make me feel worse, and make you feel worse. I want us to talk about things. I don’t want you to leave the neighborhood by yourself. If you’re leaving, I’m leaving. That’s how it’s going to be. We stick together.”

“Soobin…” You close your eyes. “You love it here.”

“And I can find somewhere else I love. It’s not that hard.”

You want to listen to his words. It all makes sense. But he’s dreamt of having this bookstore here forever. In all honesty, even if you had to commute to see him every other day, you would if it made him happy. You’re just not too sure if he would be able to find somewhere else he loves as much as this small town. You’ve never seen him happier, except for right now.

“It is hard, Bin.”

The breath he lets out now feels more irritated. “You’re not even trying to compromise.”

“You love it here, Soobin! I don’t want to be the person to ruin your dream because people around here hate me and are isolating you from the neighborhood–”

“Fuck, y/n,” he slams his hand on the counter. “All we’re doing is speaking in circles. You want to leave me here alone, then what? What will happen when I thrive? Will you just never come here again? What? What’s the solution, hm?”

You open your mouth, then close it. He stares at you waiting for a response, but you have nothing. What would you do if it’s successful? Would you just leave him alone, never coming back? Are you holding him back? There’s so many questions without answers but you know one thing: everyone in this neighborhood hates you. And it’s ruining his bookstore.

“Would you break up with me?” He asks softer this time.

Without question you shake your head, “No. Of course not.”

“You mean more to me than this bookstore, y/n,” he says softly, picking his words carefully. “Plans are often disrupted when we least expect it. I can love somewhere else. We can be somewhere else, anywhere. I’d move across the ocean for you without question. That’s what love is. We compromise, we make choices for us, not just one of us. I’ll be happy with you, wherever we are,” his eyes soften as they look into yours. “Do you hear me?”

You nod slowly, letting him move closer and pull you into his embrace. His touch is comforting, despite the lump in your throat.

“We kill him.”

“He’s well-liked around town. It will be noticeable,” San points out.

“Is he really that significant?”

“Enough so that people would suspect the woman.”

Hongjoong pinches the bridge of his nose. “Maybe it’s a good thing they suspect she’s the reason. She’s upset and we use it to our advantage. Humans need comfort when something unexpected happens in their lives, much more so than us. Her mind will be more open to change. It’ll be wise to have Wooyoung enter her life then. Convince her to come with him after a few weeks of getting to know each other.”

“Wooyoung,” San raises his brow. “Out of the eight of us, you believe that the trickster would be of comfort to a human woman mourning a relationship? What happened to Seonghwa going?”

“He’s a bit preoccupied with affairs from the Seelie. And what’s wrong with Woo? He’s silly, no?” Hongjoong says. “Humans enjoy humor.”

“I doubt she would enjoy it. His silliness is not in line with a human’s. We are Unseelie for a reason.”

“He’s your mate and yet you doubt him.”

“He’s our mate so you should doubt him in this case as well.”

Hongjoong pauses for a moment, thinking. Though he does not know of you as well as the others – they’ve researched your every move since you’ve stepped foot into existence – San has a bit of knowledge when it comes to humans. Hongjoong doesn’t often meander around the outside world. And his duties prevent him from doing so anyway. “Would Seonghwa suffice? We’ll just wait until he comes back?”

San deadpans, only causing Hongjoong to sigh.

“Well I know you hate being around humans, so who else do you suggest?”

There’s a knock on the door, before it hits the wall completely. The two of them turn. Yunho holds Wooyoung by his collar, the younger glaring at him before looking at the two in the room. His grin widens when he meets San’s eyes, a sigh escaping the latter.

“What have you done?” Is all that San utters.

Yunho speaks for him. “Perhaps Wooyoung was the best choice, since he broke orders and went to see her first.” Yunho lets go of him, stepping to the side. “Mingi caught him in the act before anything else could happen. We’ll have to produce another plan.”

“What did he do?” Hongjoong frowns.

“Perhaps,” Wooyoung slowly walks around the room. “I made the decision for us. He will no longer be a problem.” Yunho glares at the shorter man as he meanders around the tables, touching things he absolutely should not be handling. It takes a moment for Hongjoong to realize exactly what he means by his shallow words, a laugh escaping his throat.

“You killed him?”

He shrugs, “It was an issue that needed to be solved quickly. We can decide how to move forward now that the human is dead.”

“Does she know he is dead?”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “Of course not!”

“Joong, you should be more angry about this,” Yunho interrupts the conversation. “He blatantly went against our orders and did something that we were forbidden to do without knowledge. He should be punished.”

Despite Hongjoong’s leader position, he’s had a soft spot for Wooyoung since they’ve known each other. Since this Spark began. He was the last to be bound with the others, only making the leader more protective of him. Thus, spoiling him much more so in comparison to the others. It hasn’t truly been a problem. But in instances like this, when they’re so close to human affairs, they need to be more careful. So, despite his softened heart when he gazes at Wooyoung, Yunho is right. Hongjoong had to make an example.

“No stepping foot onto human land until I say.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened, beginning to protest until he saw how serious Hongjoong looked. He meekly nodded, shooting Yunho a quick glare before exiting the room. Just as the door closes, Hongjoong rubs his forehead, thinking.

San stands in the same spot, glancing between the two. “Was it bloody?”

“Better to not describe it,” Yunho murmurs. “Mingi is there now. He’ll fix it.”

“Great,” Hongjoong sighs. “Well, now we have to conjure up something else.”

–

Days prior

The door creaks as you slowly open it, the smell of wet plywood and a distinct musk of cotton balls fills the home. Your eyes roam over the broken furniture, smashed television and endless amounts of shattered glass across the floor. You hold your breath, stepping into the empty spaces as you make your way around. Soobin is one of the kindest men you know; it’s almost comical to see everything destroyed. He valued everything that was broken. You just can’t wrap your head around the fact that he ruined it all. Because of a silly disagreement? You’ve had plenty of those. Why is this time different from the rest?

It seemed like it was solved that day. But the pressure between you two escalated. Each time the topic was brought up, he’d get angrier. Hated your explanations for wanting to go, and didn’t like the option of you wanting to stay. Nothing the two of you came up with satisfied the other, so it just climaxed into curt greetings in the morning, silent conversations in the evening. But you didn’t think it was this bad. This terrible, for him to leave your shared apartment like this.

Between the destruction, you spot a letter crumbled up on the floor. It takes everything within you to pick it up and see what it says. His words are scrawled, almost unrecognizable. As if he wrote it in a hurry. But it’s as clear as day.

I’m done.

Your eyes begin to shake, fingers gripping the paper so tightly it begins to rip. Without another word you take out your phone, dialing his number over and over again. It sends you to voicemail immediately – until at some point it says the line has been disconnected. He blocked you? He destroyed your shared home, your things, left a crumpled-up letter on the floor and then blocked you?

“Fuck,” you drop to your knees, staring at the disaster around you. You reach for your phone, immediately dialing the non-emergency line to report it. As the operator explains the steps for you to take, your own thoughts making her voice fade. So many questions rattled in your head, one stamped in the front of your mind.

What will you do now?

Now

Mingi rests on the branch, wings tucked to his sides as he observes your home another day in a row. From where he sits, he can see how anxiety ridden you are; cabinets opening and closing, drawers overflowing with clothing, tears staining your cheeks as you try to clean the mess. The others told him that humans felt emotions differently than fae. That they mourn for months on end, possibly years. It's not something he can quite understand, but he empathizes. At least he thinks he does. His head tilts as he watches you. He surely hopes you will forget the human sooner rather than later. Hongjoong promised he wouldn't attempt to coax your mind to fall for their charms. Insisted that you'd do it on your own. But this destruction, it makes him worry.

Not for himself, of course. He feels nothing for you. What he worries about is his spark. About how much they care about you. So even if Hongjoong promised he'd never bind you to them with a spell… well.

Mingi never gave such a promise.

It’s true; he didn't like you. He didn't like that you were in his family's life without even knowing it yet. He didn't like that you were making his spark so happy. How could a human who barely interacted with them have such a pull? It makes no sense entirely. But what else would he be able to do? Coax you into leaving? The others would be angry with him, furious even. The thought of binding you to them immediately vanishes the more he thinks about it. Humans being involved with faeries only lead to bad outcomes. He wouldn’t dare make that certain with a spell.

He knew that humans felt emotions differently than fae. He knew that you were still grieving the loss of you and your partner’s relationship despite it being weeks ago. But he didn't care. He watched as you paced back and forth, your hands shaking as you swept the floor. He watched as you cried, your tears staining your cheeks. He watched as you tried to clean your destroyed home, and he still felt nothing. Well, annoyance, maybe. Having to watch you to make sure nothing strange happens.

He can remember how he came to Wooyoung, noticing the smell of blood over him mixed with majik. Mingi didn’t say a word about it at first, until he noticed the strange look on Wooyoung’s face. The way his eyes dilated, the scattered look in his gaze. Faeries, you see, Unseelie like them, feeding off a human gives them this sort of increase in energy. Makes their abilities much stronger than before. But there are times when an Unseelie feeds too much, too often. When the feeling consumes them, it makes them much more dangerous than before. Mingi hasn’t seen it in a while so it was easy to recognize it consuming his mate. The distant look. Immediately flying to your home, seeing the blood everywhere. It took him so long to fix it up enough so that you wouldn’t notice a thing. Wouldn’t notice the strong smell of death in the apartment. And just as a precaution, he decided to stay and watch you. To make sure he didn’t miss a thing.

You fall to the floor, sobs echoing around the small space. His eyes narrow for a moment, a strange thought almost escaping his parted lips.

He wonders if you will be alright.

“Did she take it well?” Hongjoong asks Mingi, lips quirked when he sees the frown on his cheeks. “It is only a minor setback. It should be over soon.”

It’s several days later when Hongjoong calls Mingi into his room. Mingi doesn’t really like entering, the mess is a bit overwhelming sometimes. But he sees that he fixed it up enough for him to tolerate it. A small gesture of kindness in a strange situation.

“She will be devastated for months on end.”

“She will get over it.”

Mingi’s brow furrows. “Though I don’t know humans well enough to make a judgment, I think it’s safe to say that her getting over it won’t happen for a while. You’re overestimating her emotional state, Hongjoong. She was crying over a photo of them together. She cried over human utensils.”

Hongjoong snickers, shrugging, “What can I do? Her human partner is already deceased somewhere along the valley. It’s not like I can bring him back to life again. Playing with Death isn’t wise, you know. Even for an Unseelie. Plus,” he wiggles his fingers. “I promised that I wouldn’t manipulate her mind to care for us. Nothing else I can do. Maybe Yunho or Jongho could cheer her up, they seem to care for her the most.”

“They don’t know her. None of us do.”

“They seem to know enough.”

Mingi could read between the lines. Hongjoong’s dance around the truth is almost humorous now. The word seem. He lines his sentences with it often, using it to twist a lie enough to be partially true. Though Seonghwa was the one who was most interested in the beginning – mostly to dissect her – Hongjoong’s interest is slowly rising. Especially since the others are focused on her more now.

What is this human doing to his spark? None of them even know you in the slightest except for some background details. What is this quite random obsession with a human? Especially one as mundane and ordinary as you?

“You look irritated,” Hongjoong notes, flipping through his papers. “Letting those emotions dwell isn’t good for you.”

“You all care for this stranger too much, it’s infuriating.”

Hongjoong grins, “Or do you just care for her too little?”

Mingi closes his eyes for a moment, a harsh gust of air escaping his nose. He pinches it slightly, eyes flicking back to his friend. “We aren’t supposed to care for humans at all.”

“And yet here we are, doing that exact thing.”

“Stop saying we,” Mingi frowns, Hongjoong’s eyes lighting up.

“So is it not true, then? Do you not care for her?”

“I care that she is affecting everyone."

"Not unlike a faerie, twisting your words," Hongjoong giggles.

"Hongjoong," Mingi sighs. "We can't continue like this. There has to be something done. I can't continue to pretend like everything is fine when it's the opposite."

This time, the giggle slowly disappearing from Hongjoong’s expression. He nods solemnly. "And it will be dealt with. It will take time, Mingi. We can't mess up. Not now when tensions are so high between us and the Seelie. If there is something different about her, majik or otherwise, we have to figure it out. It may ease the tension if only momentarily. She seems like a decent human no? I can bet that she will be willing to sacrifice her well being for an important cause."

"You think a human would care about faeries that feed on humans?"

Hongjoong shrugs, "Either that, or we take her unwillingly. It's her choice in the end."

"Not much of one."

Hongjoong grins, "Well she doesn't need to know that."

Seonghwa picks up his book, flicking through the pages. Nothing stands out. There isn’t any record of a human being that has resisted the charm of a faerie from what he can see. Not any ordinary humans, at least. But he found you unextraordinary. Nothing makes you stand out from the crowd, nothing that catches his eye. You just happened to be at the right place, right time. Interesting how circumstances led him to gloss over these pages, desperate to find a reason why you are the way you are. Is it a natural defense? Has human evolution created subspecies that are resistant to the charm of a Unseelie?

If that is so, they’re existence on this Earth will begin to fade.

His fingers grip the research papers, jaw tightening. The words running through his head annoy him, but there’s nothing else he can do. He must dissect you. But how will he get you here? How will your disappearance go unnoticed in such a small town? How will he separate your mind from that tall human you call your partner?

“Your thoughts are plastered on your face, Hwa,” Yeosang steps into the room, tailed by San. Seonghwa has noticed that they are often together, the eldest of the two ignoring San’s presence most of the time. But all of them can see through it. Despite how aloof Yeosang is, he adores the attention given to him. Swims in it, even. So, as it always is, Yeosang barely gives the man a glance, sitting on the edge of the sofa. “I heard about this human you found.”

“It’s resistant, Yeosang. I can’t have it roaming around without us knowing why we can’t charm it. There must be a reason.”

“Like in the movies,” San widens his eyes, nudging Yeosang. “The one person who has the cure!”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “This isn’t a zombie flick.”

“You don’t know that. We could be in one right now.”

Yeosang snorts, San puffing up his chest. Despite how irritated Seonghwa is, his lips crack into a small smile, only boosting San’s ego. He closes his notebook, rubbing his face. “I have to know why.”

“Have to, or want to?” Yeosang asks, brow raised. “We could just leave it as is. If another human found out about it, it could lead down a rabbit hole.”

“Let her go?” Seonghwa frowns. “Wooyoung already interfered. Letting it all go won’t end well.”

“You will take her then? Run tests to see why she’s resistant? It would be difficult to pull her from her life, but humans already suspect that she’s a bad luck charm in her village. It’s not like they’d be unhappy she’s gone,” Yeosang sniffs a jar, face contorting at the smell. “Rancid.”

“It’s frog intestines boiled in a rat’s tail and mermaid essence,” Seonghwa murmurs, Yeosang covering his face to keep from gagging. “But how do you know about that? Were you researching?”

San speaks up this time, “Jongho visited her at the bookstore her partner owns. Well, owned. It wasn’t long until he heard whispers of the villagers talking about getting rid of her because of the disappearances that have been happening ever since she arrived in town. And now it's her partner.”

“It’s not even her fault,” Yeosang adds.

“Humans are disloyal,” Seonghwa tsks. “But it is best for us I suppose. They will probably bask and rejoice in her disappearance.”

"That's a bit pitiful. It doesn't come as a surprise that she wanted to leave so badly. I wouldn't want to be around people that hate me either."

"But now she won't leave because she doesn't know what happened to that Soobin. The mystery of his disappearance may cause her to stay for a long time. A lot of humans aren't able to move on from partners that are gone," Seonghwa rubs his face. "It's difficult to know what to do without seeing her."

"Go," Jongho enters the room, Mingi just behind him. Both drenched in sweat from their training session, Seonghwa's nose wrinkles in disgust when he sees fluids drip onto his floor. "Visit her. I'll join if you'd like."

"Not necessary. Mingi," Seonghwa's focus moves to the taller of the two. Mingi raises his brow. "Was she distraught?"

He nods slowly. "Very much so. That was a few weeks ago though. She may have calmed down. But there is no guarantee; we all know how emotional humans are."

“You’re sensitive to emotions Seonghwa, are you sure you’re willing to go there? Humans irritate you to no end,” Wooyoung murmurs. “I can go –”

“You messed up the last time, Wooyoung. And back then we didn’t even tell you much about her. There’s no telling what you’ll do now. It’s better if you’re not interested at all,” San wraps his arm around his neck, tugging him out the room. The door closes slightly behind them. Yeosang, Mingi, and Jongho remain in the room with Seonghwa.

Idle conversation swirls around the room as they speak softly, Seonghwa gathering up his belongings. His curiosity greatly surpasses his lack of care for humankind. If there is someone like you out there, how many more are the same? He can remember the conversation you had with your partner - how you were afraid of something being off. It was Seonghwa of course, but rarely has a human ever felt the chills of faeries around them. So many things don’t come to proper conclusions in his head and he needs to know. For the safety of himself and every person in this home. Perhaps for the fate of the Unseelie entirely.

He leaves the library, book tucked underneath his arm. He enters his room, barely giving Hongjoong - who rests in his bed - a glance. He listens as he stands up from the sheets, an arm wrapping around his waist, tugging him closer.

Hongjoong presses his lips against his back, humming. “There’s no need to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders. The human probably doesn’t even know of its resistance to your lure. It may just be one in a billion.”

“I have to make sure. It’s for all of us, not just me,” Seonghwa says, pulling away from his hold. It’s something they often do - Hongjoong tries to pull him closer only for Seonghwa to pull away. It’s happened ever since the beginning. “You know that. You should be more worried than me.”

“Why worry about a silly little human?” Hongjoong snorts. “She will die in a few decades anyway.”

“It seems like I’m the only one who cares about her existence,” Seonghwa lifts his clothes and tosses them, replacing them with a more human-like outfit. He barely gives himself a look in the mirror, a scowl etched on his features. How humans have not moved past such hideous outfits is beyond him. “I would kill her if it weren’t for the unknown.”

“Everyone and this little human,” Hongjoong sighs. “Fine. Do whatever you’d like. Just be back for the council meeting. The other Unseelies don’t quite approve of the recent killings we’ve done.”

Seonghwa furrows his brows, “Since when did they care about our dealings?”

“Since they’ve begun to notice the pattern of disappearances. Humans are not exactly happy with us, even though they don’t have a method of killing us.”

“Then me interacting with her now is important,” Seonghwa quickly grabs his bag. “I’ll be back with my findings. And I won’t kill her. At least not right now.” he glances at his leader. “Don’t wait for me if I’m not back for the meeting.”

“Hwa-”

He disappears just as Hongjoong begins to speak. Hongjoong stares blankly at the place he once was, brows furrowed. Just what is it about this human that has everyone losing their minds? He purses his lips, lifting himself off the bed. Soon enough he’ll find out for himself.

Seonghwa slowly enters the bookstore. The bell rings against the glass pane of the door, his steps hesitant. There isn't anyone around the bookstore, soft music playing. He tucks his hands into his coat pocket, unaccustomed to the cold environment. His eyes roam around, books neatly stacked, signs arranged in alphabetical order. It warms his heart a bit to see organization – his own library doesn't see it as much as he'd like. The quick steps of a human running pulls his thoughts away, eyes flicking over to you.

You hold a couple of books in your hand, hair unkempt and eyes filled with exhaustion. A pen tucked behind your ear, you give him a sincere smile, placing the books in a neat stack on the counter.

"Welcome to our bookstore!" You say happily, meeting the eyes of the stranger. Just as you do, your thoughts move back to over a month or so ago. The festival. The stranger in the woods. Your smile wavers for a moment as you look at him. He looks as ordinary as a man with unreal beauty can look. Perhaps you were a bit out of it at the time. Still, you remain wary, inching closer to the counter behind you.

"Hello, I’m Seonghwa," he says softly. His voice is deep, eyes dark as he stares at you. His hair is darker than any black you've seen, even the shade of brown in his eyes more black than anything else. His clothing choice is odd as well - a thin graphic tee and slacks covering sports shoes. Completely and utterly different from the well-dressed man in a cloak you witnessed in the forest. He looks uncomfortable in it as well, tugging slightly on the fabric. You swallow slowly, forcing another grin on your lips.

"Hi, I’m y/n. How can I help you?"

"I'm quite new to venturing out into town," he steps around, fingertips stroking the top of a stack of new hardcovers. "The others told me of a bookstore and a café together in one. If you don't mind, I'd like to look around and perhaps have a drink. Whenever you are ready to prepare?"

You push the eerie feeling away, agreeing. "Of course. What would you like, then?"

Seonghwa sits himself at your favorite spot - a small loveseat situated near the front windows. The same place Soobin and you would rest after a long day, counting tills. The light shines on him as he ponders, eyes flicking over the assortment of sweets and drink displays behind you. You take a step to the side and he sends you a small thank you in the form of a smile. He leans, gazing at your open cabinets. "Anything with saffron. Or sweet, I do quite enjoy that."

You ponder for a moment, before opening your cabinet and retrieving your tea leaves. You take out the honey as well, not noticing how his eyes widen at the jar. You take out the milk as well, glancing at Seonghwa. "Milk tea with honey? I should have some cookies around…" You mumble, digging through the drawer. "Soobin usually eats it all."

"Soobin?" His brows furrow.

You pause.

"Yes, my partner. Former partner. The person who owns this place," you raise your brow. There's an unreadable look on his face, but it doesn't linger long enough for you to consider what it was. Setting the water to a boil, you slide back into your seat, humming. "There's a small farmhouse just next to the Rowan trees that I'm looking to buy. Just a few more days until I find out if I get it or not." It’s outside of the town enough that you’d still be able to live comfortably. Moving into the city right now is on the bottom of your list. And even if you do decide to leave, at least you’ll have a place to fall back on. It isn’t too expensive since it’s been abandoned for years now.

"You're married?" He asks, thanking you as you pass him his tea and the honey jar.

"No, it’s complicated right now. I’m not too sure where he is if I'm being honest.”

You see the puzzled look on his face, and quickly clear it up.

“We had a falling out not too long ago. That’s why the shop looks this way. But yeah, I planned on moving soon. At least when I found something more stable," you think. Though the two of you were friends before partners, Soobin always gave little answer or thought to marriage. In fact, he said he started to consider it only when you brought it up. That was three years ago. Now, you don’t even know where he is, or if he’s coming back.

"Are you sure about that?" He raises his brow.

“About what?”

“Finding somewhere else. I remember you mentioning that this place looks a bit…” he trails off. “But it looks fine to me. Perhaps a bit too orderly for a small town bookstore.”

You blink quickly. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” he shrugs, taking a sip of his tea.

You move away from him then, grabbing your stack of books off the table and going back to work. The fear of him being around you has subsided. Though there is still a mysterious cloud around him, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before in your travels through the city. You curse yourself for even mentioning Soobin, placing the books on the shelves. You probably drove away another customer in your whines to the stranger.

You glance back at him and see that he's reading one of the magazines you've left on the table, sipping his tea. How someone could look elegant while sitting in a t-shirt is beyond your understanding.

"Do you enjoy the town?" You ask, finishing your task. He looks up from the magazine.

"It's quite alright. Just like any other small town. Intrusive townspeople, curious eyes following you wherever you go. Clovers to drive away mysterious creatures of the night," his lips lift. "Ah, speaking of that…"

The bell rings, your focus on the door. A few patrons enter, distracting you. Just as you finish helping and guiding their questions away from your missing boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, whatever he is – you look over to the loveseat and see it empty. Seonghwa must have slipped away while you were distracted. Resting beneath the teacup is way too much money. With a small note wrapped around it.

Thank you for the tea.

Next to the sentence lies a small drawing of a four-leaf clover.

—

You stare at the computer, frustration growing. The webpage doesn't help you in the slightest. Lines and lines of retellings of the same old tales. Faeries are dangerous, stay away from the fae. Don't listen to the fae, don't accept gifts from them. The same things over and over. Words that have been embedded into your very being. Nothing of which is news to you. Your eyes flick to the small list you've created, summarizing everything you've read thus far and narrowing it to a few points.

How to survive an encounter with an Unseelie fae [fǣġe]:

Do not eat what they offer. Do not drink what they offer.

Majik always has a price, do not risk a deal. Do not ask for them to save a loved one. Do not ask for them to take your firstborn. Do not accept any offer they may give you.

Do not invite them into your home.

Faeries cannot lie. Because of this, they are eloquent with their words. Do not be fooled.

Do not summon an Unseelie.

If you see something strange, leave immediately. Four leaf clovers are a sign of a faerie near.

Do not celebrate with faeries. Under any circumstances.

Do not enter the forest at night.

If you are followed by a crow or raven, enter the nearest home and do not leave until it is gone. The Unseelie are following you.

Do not fall in love with a faerie, they will not love you the same.

"This is so insane," You put your head in your hands. Maybe that's why Soobin left. He saw how you'd turn out before you even did. You snort at the thought, rubbing your face. Seonghwa's drawing of the four-leaf clover could be just a coincidence. It's not like it isn't an obvious symbol painted and carved into almost every building around town. And yet, the way he's acted, the stares you felt on you when your back was turned – something was off with him. Even if he isn't a faerie, he's something.

Or you're truly just being silly.

You stare at the list again, adding one more point.

Faeries are not affected by four-leaf clovers.

#fic: wonderwall #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic

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